More Than Friends
by shiegurl
Summary: The trio's relationships will put one of them in danger. Harry thinks he loves Hermione, Ron loves Hermione, but who does Hermione love? Someone is returning to Hogwarts, and Draco is up to no good. He could destroy the trio's relationship forever...
1. Default Chapter

A/N: Thanks once again to Missybewitched for agreeing to Beta this story for me. I still wish her luck with her story:) Please comment if you like what you read so far, if you have any suggestions please let me know. Thanks!

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to JK Rowling.

**More Than Friends**

**Chapter 1: Hermione's Secret**

It had just been Gryffindor's first Quidditch match of the season, against angry Slytherins. Play had been in perfect conditions, good visibility and a soft breeze, however the teams had struggled to score against each other. Evenly matched in their abilities, the game had been close, goal for goal. Each pass and shot at goal had been crucial; one mistake could have ended the hopes of victory for either team.

Gryffindor's new team had performed well, with steely determination, managing to snatch a victory away from the strong Slytherin side. Once again, it had come down to a race between Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy for the golden snitch.

Harry had performed the Wronski Feint earlier; he had become expert over the summer break, much to Ron's enthusiasm, and had easily lured Draco into a dangerous dive for a non-existent snitch. Draco had only just been able to pull up in time, shooting off offensive remarks at Harry's back as he zoomed away and hovered around the stands. After this Draco had been more hesitant at following Harry's lead in the lookout for the snitch, and this uncertainty had left him lagging a broom length behind in the all-important dive. Draco had left the pitch in a foul mood, and Harry expected he would be encountering some more unwanted jinxes in the corridors the coming week.

Harry left the change room with Ron, the door emitting a soft clunk as it closed behind them. Looking over at Ron, he saw his own expression mirrored on Ron's face. The game had been tough, but they were both grinning at each other. It was the first time since last year that they had played together in a real match. Harry couldn't get over how good Ron was at deflecting the Slytherin's shots for goal, he mused that Ron seemed to be much better than Oliver Wood - and that was saying something.

Exiting the stadium they began walking back to the castle. It was almost time for lunch, and they were both ravenous. Harry broke into a wide grin again as he turned to look at Ron who was now recounting Harry's devious manoeuvre on Draco with wild hand gestures. He hadn't felt this happy in a long time, and he was hoping the feeling would last. Dumbledore was back as Headmaster of Hogwarts, and he was enjoying his best year yet as a sixth year student.

Harry turned around quickly at the sound of quick footsteps behind the pair of walking teammates. He was expecting some form of retaliation from the Slytherins. Emerald green eyes opened wide in surprise as their vision became obscured by a soft bushy tangle.

Hermione pulled away from Harry, her arms glued tight to his sides. She gave him a peck on the cheek and laughed happily.

"You were both brilliant!" Hermione beamed at them as she stepped away from Harry and embraced Ron in a quick hug. Ron's ears turned slightly pink and Harry laughed.

Hermione pushed herself between them, linked arms, and joined them on their way back to the castle.

As theytraipsed overa small grassy rise, Harry sneaked a look at Hermione only to find that she was looking straight at him. Her cheeks were flushed a soft pink and she had a twinkle in her eye that Harry recognised immediately - and instantly he knew that her excitement was related more to something else than their excellent flying skills or their win against Slytherin.

They had beaten Slytherin many times before, and Harry thought that even with both Ron and him playing at the same time, Hermione's enthusiasm was more than what could be expected.

Harry raised his right eyebrow, a quizzical expression forming on his ruggedly handsome face. "What's up?" he asked Hermione. Ron suddenly looked over at his companions, an unreadable expression forming on his face, replacing the look of elation he wore only a few moments ago.

"Nothing. Can't a girl be happy when her two best friends are Quidditch super stars and Gryffindor has won?" she laughed merrily and smiled at them both. Harry stared up at the turrets of the castle. They had now reached the foot of the stone staircase. He didn't believe her answer, and was going to ask her again, but he didn't get the chance to.

Hermione broke the link between herself and her friends, and gave Ron a quick hug, a playful smile dancing about her lips. She then turned to Harry, the smile still lingering, and gave him one last hug. Harry felt like the temperature had been turned up as he realised that one of Hermione's hands had slide discreetly into the back pocket of his jeans.

Surprised he looked down into her chocolate brown eyes and received a quick wink as her hand withdrew from his pocket.

"I'll see you inside soon for lunch," she said as she turned away from them and began walking back towards the Quidditch Pitch, "I'm going to meet Ginny and walk her back."

Harry and Ron turned from watching Hermione's departing figure, and climbed the stairs into the entrance hall and headed for the Great Hall.

"What's with her?" Ron asked, mouth full of mashed potato, his mind obviously still on Hermione and her excessively good mood.

"Dunno, mate," Harry said absently as he moved his Sheppard's pie around his plate. He didn't think Hermione would be the kind of girl to do that sort of thing - stick her hands down a young man's jeans and…well, he was surprised at the least. Her unexpected intrusion into his private space had left him with a pleasant physical sensation, yet a troubling mental predicament. He seriously hoped she hadn't formed a crush on him, because it was obvious to him that Ron liked her more than a friend. He would have to worry more about Ron than Voldemort if he started to fancy Hermione too, he mused.

He stopped thinking about Hermione, her strange actions and good mood, and eagerly polished off his pie. He and Ron then returned to Gryffindor Tower, thoroughly looking forward to the party that was likely to be awaiting their return.


	2. Ch2 Mistakes

A/N: Thanks again go to Missybewitched for her much needed help on this Chapter. Sometimes, what is clear to you is confusing to another person.

Thanks to those who have commented, I really appreciate it.

To Eimme: yes, I don't think Hermione would act that way either. I have to remind myself though that they are getting older, so some things they may get up to may seem strange at first - but the reasons will present themselves later :)

To BlackWiltedRose: thanks so much for your words of encouragement. I always think my descriptions are not up to scratch. I hope you enjoy the chapters that follow, as much as you enjoyed the first. I have enjoyed writing them.

**Chapter 2: Mistakes**

A rumble of noise erupted from behind the portrait hole as Ron and Harry stepped through it.

"Two cheers for Harry and Ron!" Lee Jordan bellowed, as he made his way towards their grinning faces at the entrance to Gryffindor Tower. "Our two saviours!"

All the Gryffindors laughed at Lee's comments, and as the pair made their way through the pulsing crowd, they received many pats on the back and cauldron cakes, pastry puffs and fizzing whizzbees, were being shoved into their arms.

As they approached the fireplace, Harry received a hard pinch on his bottom. For a nanosecond, he, although unwanted, experienced pleasure at the thought that it was Hermione who had pinched him there. He turned around to face his attacker and saw that it was a young first year girl who had turned a deep crimson shade.

"Sorry," she muttered meekly to him as she turned away quickly and hurried away to a group of madly giggling first year girls.

Harry felt his face begin to grow hot, so he grabbled a bottle of butterbeer and began to gulp it down. He was again listening to another recount of his masterful play on the Slytherin Seeker, and began to zone out. Hermione's pretty face with her pink flushed cheeks had entered his mind. He sank back into a nearby chair, butterbeer in hand and began to mull over the problem that was Hermione.

She hadn't been a problem before, of course; he hadn't been attracted to her. She was one of his best friends after all, and therefore, he had never taken it within his right to notice her womanly charms. But her blatant playfulness and forthrightness with her actions today had begun to make him think otherwise of her.

He didn't know how Ron managed so well. Ron liked Hermione too, it was obvious to just about everyone except the young lady, and he managed to talk to her and look her in the eye without giving away his own feelings. For Harry, to talk to a girl he liked, resulted in a blush creeping up his cheeks and his throat closing up so he couldn't make a sound.

Sighing contentedly as he recalled the feeling of Hermione's hand in his pants, Harry took another swig from his bottle. He smiled sadly, he was under her spell now - she was a clever witch after all. It just pained him that he would never be able to be with her unless she made the first move, because that way, it wouldn't be so hard on Ron.

But then again, being with her wasn't an option. He knew he couldn't live without Ron by his side, after all, he had experienced last year what it felt like to be with Hermione all the time. He didn't think he could handle spending most of his spare time in the library. Especially when Madame Pince didn't tolerate students sneaking a snog behind one of her ancient tomes.

He scanned the room looking for Ron's lanky frame and found it standing in a circle of girls. Yes, he would give up on the idea of Hermione. He supposed he only had taken a fancy towards her, as she was someone he could always count on for a good hug when he needed one, and one even if he didn't need it.

He smiled wickedly to himself and turned his head towards the ceiling to capture the last of the butterbeer from its bottle. When he turned back down he almost dropped the bottle on the floor. Hermione was standing right in front of his chair, an angry look drawn across her face.

Harry opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, but Hermione quickly bent down and covered his mouth with her hand.

"Shhh," she whispered to him, "not here."

He looked at her, puzzled. Grabbing his free hand, Hermione pulled him over to the far window of the common room and placed her head against the window to look outside. It was dark now; the stars could be seen in the distance and they could barely make out the muted lights from Hagrid's cabin far belowin the grounds.

Harry watched as her warm breath fogged up the window, there was still a tell tale twinkle in her eye.

"Hermione, what is it?" He said quietly to her reflection on the window. His heart skipped a beat when her reflected eyes looked into his.

Hermione looked over his shoulder, and taking her hint, Harry turned his head. Ginny Weasley was approaching them, a tray laden with cakes balanced on her elegant hand, and a mischievous glint to her eye that Harry missed.

"Here," she offered the platter to the two teenagers, "take one of these."

Hermione refused politely, but Harry took one, hoping that Ginny would go away and he could listen to what Hermione had to say. Ginny looked like she was about to say something, but stopped when she noticed the look Harry gave her. She then turned on her heel and disappeared into the crowd.

Harry turned back to face Hermione, intent on hearing the answer to his question, and took in a sharp intake of breath when he realised that she was right up close to him, mere centimetres away. His eyes flicked to her lips, which were shiny and smooth, parted slightly, beckoning to him.

The last time a girl had been this close; she had kissed him. Harry began to feel a pleasant tingle throughout his body, as his commonsense and restraint started to trickle away; Hermione wanted to kiss him just like Cho did.

He took Hermione's hand and pulled her closer, his butterbeer bottle had mysteriously disappeared, and ran his fingers through Hermione's tousled hair as he leaned down to kiss her.

Hermione remained still in his arms; her hand went up to fetch Harry's hand from her hair. She held it and broke their kiss, stepping away from Harry slightly. Her cheeks had turned red and she looked at Harry with a look of surprise and confusion forming on her pretty face as she let go of his hands.

Harry was breathing quickly, he couldn't believe what he had just done. He had kissed Hermione Granger, his best friend, in front of the whole of Gryffindor House. What was he thinking? He looked at Hermione more closely and his stomach clenched into a knot. She didn't look pleased; instead she looked taken aback and embarrassed. It was not the look he was expecting to see on her face. Why did every girl he had ever kissed have to have some adverse reaction to what was supposed to be a pleasurable experience?

He turned to look out the window and picked up the cake from the windowsill that he had grabbed from Ginny's platter. He needed something to distract him from the awkward feelings that were radiating from Hermione. He needed to collect his thoughts before he could look at her again.

He was about to take his first bite of the cake when he noticed Hermione looking over his shoulder again. He snapped his head around quickly as his teeth bit down into the cake. He saw a flash of red hair and knew it was Ron; the knot in his stomach tightened and sank. Ron looked furious as he came to stand right in front of him.

Harry, who was stunned and had cake hanging from his mouth, looked at Ron. He felt like he had been caught committing some awful crime. How could he have kissed the girl his best friend had fancied for years?

Ron brought his hand around quickly and slapped Harry hard across the face. The cake that had been in Harry's mouth went flying towards the floor. Harry's hand reached up to rub the red raw pain from his face. His eyes that had begun to emit tears from the smarting pain, noticed the look of disgust that Ron was wearing as he looked at him.


	3. Ch3 Revelations

A/N: Missybewitched is owed more thanks. One hour after I had written this chapter she had already read it and offered her suggestions to fix up the errors. Thanks so much! Hopefully I am not distracting her too much from her creation!

**Chapter 3: Revelations**

"What did you do that for?" Harry cried indignantly at Ron.

"Well, what do you think you're doing?" Ron said huffily, "and you too Hermione, I thought you knew better!"

"It's not my fault," Hermione said crossly, "I didn't make him do it."

Ron glared at her.

"What? I couldn't stop him!" she added with a snap of her tongue and an angry flick of her hair.

Ron gaped at her, astonished at her fierce temper that had once again released itself from her usually pleasant demeanour.

"I'll see you later, Harry," she blushed, "you too, Ron. Bye." She turned away from the two young men and scurried up the staircase to the girl's dormitories, closely followed by a red haired girl who looked just as angry.

"I'm sorry, mate," Harry offered to Ron, who was still staring at the spot where Hermione had disappeared from. "It just sort of happened."

"I just can't get over how stupid you can be sometimes, Harry," Ron said a look of bewilderment on his freckled face. "You did recognise those cakes, didn't you?"

Harry looked at Ron surprised.

"Please tell me you did, and you were going to eat it on purpose," Ron added with a grin, "or else what little respect I have left for you will have vanished."

Harry's muscles relaxed slightly, and he bent down to examine the cake that he had been forced to spit onto the floor. He recognised it immediately as a Fred and George creation. He thought to himself that he must have been too distracted to notice what Ginny was offering him. Harry was glad that Ron had slapped him, those things made the eater turn as red as a lobster for a good two hours.

Rising to his full height he thanked Ron for stopping him from eating the cake. "Did you have to slap me so hard though?" he questioned his friend as they entered their dormitory.

"Nothing less would have stopped you," Ron replied monotonously as he climbed onto his four-poster bed and drew the curtains close around it.

"Night," came his muffled voice from the other side, followed by a long, loud yawn.

"Night," Harry said softly as he dropped onto his covers and lay back on his pillows. He couldn't work out if Ron had seen him kiss Hermione or not. He thought that Ron hadn't, though his last comment troubled Harry. He gave his wand a feeble flick and his curtains drew tight, shutting out his view of the rest of the room. The exhaustion from the fierce Quidditch Match was finally starting to set in, and he fell asleep almost instantly.

* * *

Harry awoke from a pleasant dream, that he thought must have been of Hermione. The images he had seen were quickly evaporating from his memory, but the physical changes that they had caused still remained.

Harry groaned, glad that his curtains were drawn so tight. He quickly changed into some new clothes and visited the bathroom before breakfast. He had to shave now, which he didn't find very fun, until Ron had taught him a simple spell that was passed down through the male Weasley line from father to son. This made quick work of removing his whiskers - but not permanently - he thoughtthat would be too weird.

Ron was still asleep when he went down to breakfast. He hadn't wanted to wake him, just in case Ron asked him about last night. Harry didn't feel like discussing it, he was still confused about what had happened.

Entering the great hall he spotted Hermione sitting alone at the far end, closer to the staff table. Harry cautiously made his way over to her, hoping that she would be able to give him a better insight into what had happened between them last night.

"Hi," he said sitting down on her left.

Hermione jumped, startled by his sudden appearance at her side, and folded up something she had been reading, placing it inside her jacket.

"Morning," she said, avoiding Harry's eyes.

"What's up?" Harry whispered to her as he grabbed a slice of toast and started to spread some jam over it.

"Where were you last night?" she fervently whispered back, scanning the room with her sharp eyes to make sure no one was eavesdropping on their conversation.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked her curiously, "you saw me in the common room, and then you ran off to bed."

Hermione rolled her eyes at him. "Didn't you get my note?"

"What note?" Harry asked as he munched on his toast.

"Honestly, boys are so daft," Hermione muttered more to herself than Harry.

"The note I gave you yesterday," she stared at him meaningfully.

Harry stared back at her blankly. "You didn't give me any note, I would have remembered."

"The note I placed in your pocket after the match," Hermione said slowly.

Harry noticed a hotness that had started to creep up from the base of his neck as what Hermione was saying finally registered in his brain.

"Merlin!" Hermione exclaimed a little too loudly, Snape had looked in their direction with an icy glare. "You thought I was making a pass at you," Hermione whispered amazed, "that's why you kissed me". She turned scarlet at the memory.

They both sat in silence for a few minutes not daring to look at each other for fear that their faces would turn so red, they would never return to their normal colour.

Abruptly, Hermione arose from her seat. As she bent down to pick up her bag, she whispered to Harry, "Ron's on his way over, don't say a thing to him." She placed the strap over her shoulder, "just go and read the note, okay? And we'll meet tonight instead."

"See you then," she said more loudly as Ron sat down next to Harry, "I'm off to…"

"The library," Ron and Harry finished for her, wearing grins on their faces.

Hermione gave them a curt smile, rolled her eyes, and left the Great Hall.

"She's started on that paper Snape gave us about Medicinal Potions, hasn't she?" Ron asked Harry as he lifted a large spoonful of porridge from his bowl.

"Yeah," Harry replied distractedly, "I'd say she has."

Harry was thinking about what he had just learnt from his conversation with Hermione. He had gained some valuable insight after all. He couldn't believe he thought she was hitting on him; hopefully he hadn't damaged their friendship too much by kissing her. He also hoped that he wouldn't be too embarrassed to talk to her again, it would be tough talking to her if he couldn't string two words together.

Ron scraped the bottom of his bowl. "Want to go out and practice some new moves?"

"Alright," Harry said. Quidditch was his best distraction, he felt too uncomfortable to do any of his homework now. Maybe after some Quidditich he would be able to concentrate better.


	4. Ch4 Suspicions

A/N: I fixed up the spelling with Quidditch from now on; in earlier chapters it is spelt wrong sometimes. Quidditch has now been added to my spellchecker! 

Thanks again go to Missybewitched! She has made my writing sound so much better!

If something is confusing you and you need it explained, leave a comment or send an e-mail. If enough people are becoming confused, I promise to fill you all in. I am leaving some gaps for reasons that will be obvious eventually, and some I am leaving because you all know how Hogwarts works.

Thanks to all my reviewers!

You've all worked some of it out! I can't reply to some, as it would ruin the story.

**Chapter 4: Suspicions**

Harry rose high over the stands on his Firebolt, the breeze ruffling his hair as he flew a slow circle around the Hogwarts Quidditch Pitch. On his Cleensweep, following Harry closely and mimicking his moves was Ron. They had been flying around for a few hours now and had played a game of one on one Quidditch. They had also thought up and practiced some new moves they would like to introduce to their teammates at the next Gryffindor Quidditch team practice.

Angling his broom left and down, Harry began a slow spiral towards the soft grassy field below. He landed with ease and climbed off his broom, waiting for Ron to join him. Scanning the field with his emerald green eyes, Harry drank in one of his most favourite scenes. Green grass lit by soft sunshine, with small white puffy, billowy clouds above. With the house flags and tiny blades of grass rippling majestically, calmingly, in the breeze.

Stretching his arms up towards the sky Harry suppressed a laugh as he watched Ron land and dismount. Ron had descended a bit too fast and had stumbled off of his broom.

"Phew!" Ron exhaled. "That was a good flight you just took us on, I haven't practiced some of those moves for awhile. I haven't really needed to as Keeper."

Smiling at him, Harry placed his Firebolt over his shoulder. "We should head back now," Harry said as he began walking towards the exit, "it's probably halfway though lunch."

"Have we been out here that long?" Ron exclaimed as he walked a bit faster to catch up to Harry.

Harry nodded in agreement. They walked in silence towards the castle. Ron had matched Harry's pace now.

"I can't take it anymore," Ron muttered. "Stop. There's something I want to ask you."

Harry stopped in his tracks, dreading the words that would be out of Ron's mouth next. The contents of his stomach had turned an icy cold and he felt a sudden urge to run away. If Ron asked him about what had happened with Hermione last night, he didn't know what he was going to say. He didn't yet know how to phrase his answer so that Ron wouldn't punch him, or even worse, stop speaking to him again like he did in fourth year.

"What do you want to ask me Ron?" Harry said softly as he stared off into the distance towards the forbidden forest. He couldn't look Ron in the eye. He felt that if he lied to Ron, his eyes would give him away.

"You know last night when you were with Hermione," Ron started in a stilted tone, "when you were talking to her in the common room."

"Yes, Ron," Harry said slowly.

"It kind of looked like from where I was standing that…"Ron started saying in a cold tone when he was interrupted.

"If it isn't Potty and the Weasel King," said a familiar snooty voice from behind the pair.

Harry and Ron whipped around to look behind them. Harry already had his wand out and was aiming it at Malfoy's usually handsome face that was currently wearing an ugly sneer of dislike. Crabbe and Goyle stood behind Malfoy with their arms crossed over their chests, cracking their knuckles aggressively. Nott was theretoo, and he hadhis arms crossed as well. Althoughhe was standing alittle away to the side of the group, and he was looking towards the direction of Hagrid's Hut.A bored lookbeginning to cloudhis stringy features.

"Sneaks," Ron muttered.

"Where'd you come from, Malfoy?" Harry said, barely suppressing his anger at his rival.

"None of your business, boy wonder," Malfoy replied, a slippery smile forming on his thin lips. "It sounds like you've got enough trouble to be dealing with without knowing what I'm up to."

"What do you mean?" Harry questioned. "If it's got something to do with Voldemort, I already know."

Harry saw all the young men shiver at the mention of Voldemort's name. Malfoy had cringed and rubbed his forearm absently until he recomposed himself.

"Well, if you must know," Malfoy said each word slipping from his mouth like a snake's venom, "I heard that you've been kissing mudbloods. Tsk, tsk."

Harry felt his face beginning to burn. He glanced quickly at Ron and noticed that he was staring at him, gaping like a gold fish.

Malfoy laughed evilly.

"How's your dear old dad?" Harry began, trying to change the subject. He was worried that if he didn't start Malfoy on something else, the blond boy would be the least of his problems; Ron's wand hand had begun to tremble uncontrollably.

"You're dead, Potter," Malfoy snarled as he stood right in front of Harry so that they were glaring at each other eye to eye.

"I've already heard that one before, Malfoy," Harry spat out. "Why don't you pay for some new material?"

Malfoy stepped away from Harry and pointed his wand straight at Harry's heart. "Cru…"

"Harry."

The boys all turned towards the large shape that was emerging from the tree line of the forbidden forest.

"Watch out, Potter," Malfoy muttered as he and his gang slinked away past Harry and Ron towards the far side of the castle.

"Was that ferret annoying you?" Hagrid said roughly. "Want me to go speak to Dumbledore?"

"Nah, we're right, Hagrid," Harry said calming down. "Thanks for getting him off our back."

"No problem," Hagrid gave them a quick wink. "Yeh all righ' Ron? You look like you've been throwin' up those slugs again."

Ron shook his head at Hagrid and turned around and began walking back towards the castle.

"Is he all righ'?" Hagrid asked Harry in a whisper.

"Yeah," Harry whispered back quickly, "he just thinks that I've been kissing Hermione."

"Well 'ave yeh?" Hagrid implored, a look of surprise on his face. "I always thought it was Ron tha' liked her, yeh seemed more interested in those sporty types, like that Ravenclaw Seeker."

Harry blushed again. "No, I haven't been kissing Hermione," Harry lied convincingly, which he found quite easy to do. " He just thinks that I have because Malfoy said so."

"Ah, righ' then," Hagrid said.

"I'd better go catch up with Ron," Harry said, turning from Hagrid and running to catch up with his friend. " Bye, Hagrid."

"Bye, Harry," Hagrid called after Harry's retreating figure.


	5. Ch5 Library Scene

A/N: Thanks again to Missybewitched!

**Chapter 5: Library Scene**

"Ron," Harry called after his friend as he sprinted to catch up with him, "hey Ron!"

"If you think I'm ever going to talk to you again you're wrong," Ron had stopped suddenly and turned to face Harry. "How could you?" Ron shook his head sadly; his eyes had begun to mist over, "how could you do that to me Harry, your best friend? How could you kiss her when you knew that I had liked her for so long?"

"You've got it all wrong Ron," Harry said quickly, "Malfoy's lying"

"Oh, is he?" Ron said sarcastically. "Then how come Malfoy's not the only one that has been saying it?"

Harry groaned inwardly, this was going to make it tough. If he admitted to Ron that he had kissed Hermione, Ron wouldn't speak to him. He was going to have to think up a plausible story.

"Look Harry," Ron said angrily, he had dropped his broom on the ground, "I don't think he's lying. I saw you get close to her last night, I didn't think you were kissing but now I am not so sure."

"We weren't kissing Ron," Harry explained to his friend, "she was just really close because she was telling me a secret that she didn't want anyone else to hear."

"Yeah right!" Ron snorted.

"Honestly," Harry said, a sneaky plan beginning to form, "she was whispering quietly so that you couldn't hear. She was telling me that she liked you and was asking me if I knew if you liked anyone."

"Whatdidyoutellher?" Ron said quickly, red blotches quickly beginning to colour his face.

"That yeah," Harry said relieved that his quick thinking had worked, "you like some girls. One in particular though, more than the others."

"Did you tell her that I liked her?" Ron asked, the blotchy reds now joining to form one large blotchy red blob.

"No," Harry said, "I thought that should be up to you to do."

"Yeah," Ron said his face revealing that he was thinking things through, "yeah. That sounds good."

Ron picked up his broom and began to slowly walk up the stone steps.

"She likes me," he murmured to himself in a slight stupor.

Harry smiled, trailing behind Ron. He could smell the inviting aroma of a hot lunch wafting through the open doors of the Great Hall.

* * *

Harry and Ron entered the library, refreshed after a hot shower and wearing a change of clothes. They each had their bags slung over their shoulders, full of blank parchment, their Potions text, and enough quills and ink to last them for the afternoon. They paused at the entrance, exploring the room with their eyes, taking in all the students studying at the tables under the stern eye of Madam Pince. They were looking for Hermione.

Ron spotted her first. "Look over there," He whispered to Harry while nudging him with his elbow.

They began to slowly pick their way though the maze of tables and chairs. Briefly stopping every couple of steps to say a quick hello, ask a question or return a quick wave. As they got closer, they noticed that Hermione wasn't studying. She was leaning across the table, her face red, whispering waspishly to Ginny Weasley who was just as red, if not more so than the angry girl sitting across from her.

The girls stopped their whispered fight and stared down at their notes, ignoring the two teenage boys who had just pulled out chairs to join them at their table. As Harry retrieved the parchment from his bag, he picked up the tense vibe that the abrupt silence had brought between the two girls.

Harry watched Madam Pince stalk between the aisles of the bookshelves, speaking severely to a group of first years that were giggling in the corner. He was finding it hard to concentrate on the contents of his Medicinal Potions paper when the air around him was charged with emotional turmoil, he could almost hear the crackling of the electricity.

"Eer Hermione," Ron whispered from his seat next to Harry.

"What is it Ronald," Hermione snapped. Her voice was loud enough for the people surrounding them to hear. Two Ravenclaws nearby turned around to glare at her for interrupting their thoughts.

"Uhm," Ron replied feebly, "have you been able to find which plants can be substituted in the Headache Healing Draught?"

Hermione rolled her eyes irritably and snatched Ron's Potions text from his grasp. She flicked it open and turned to page 394. "Here," she said shoving the book into Ron's outstretched hands. "Last paragraph," she snapped.

The group sat in silence for a few minutes.

"Ugh I just can't concentrate!" Hermione wailed, and she slid everything into her backpack, and stormed from the library leaving her chair on the floor.

"I can't study in here either, I've had enough!" Ginny proclaimed furiously and swept from the library, her notes screwed up in her hands, Madam Pince glaring at her flaming red hair as it passed her by.

Ron shrugged and pulled the pile of books that Hermione had left closer to him. He sat for a few minutes flicking through them, page by page, trying to find the ones that Hermione had found useful in writing her paper.

"It's no use mate," Ron whispered to Harry dejectedly.

"What's no use," Harry replied. He was distracted, trying to find out what the properties of Aconite were again.

"Hermione," Ron sighed.

"Huh?" Harry muttered.

"She didn't mark any pages," Ron replied, "these books are so huge, it'll take me hours to scan every page for what I'm looking for."

"Mmmm," Harry said not listening too intently.

A few hours passed before Ron spoke to Harry again. They had both managed to make a little progress on their Potions papers. Harry was staring out the window at the sunset that was starting to weave its red and gold tendrils into the light blue sky above. "I guess we should pack up now and head to dinner," Ron said while he began to pack his things away.

Harry sighed. "Yeah, I guess we should."


	6. Ch6 Hermione's Message

A/N: Thanks again go to Missybewitched for her time.

I will probably need a bigger gap before Chapter 7 goes up (about 3 days), as I have work and other commitments. It is worth the wait though hopefully, I have a few surprises still left up my sleeve. :)

**Chapter 6: Hermione's Message**

Harry sat down at the Gryffindor table, glad that he and Ron had arrived in time. There weren't too many students left eating, which meant that dinner was drawing to an end. Most of the platters that littered the tabletop were close to empty, but there was still a bit of the less popular dishes left. They didn't take any notice of any of the students left eating their dinner. They were both in a rush to grab something before the leftover food disappeared. If they weren't quick, they would have to wait until breakfast tomorrow to eat.

"Ugh," Ron groaned. "Why did we have to spend so much time in the library for? I'm going to be starving before bedtime. My stomach will growl so much I'm not going to be able to get to sleep."

"Why don't you just go visit the kitchens then?" Harry asked him, placing what was left of the sausages onto his plate.

"Can't now, can we?" Ron muttered irritably in between mouthfuls of pumpkin soup. "Hermione had to go and upset them all fourth year now, didn't she?"

"Yeah, I bet Dobby is still having to clean Gryffindor Tower all by himself."

"What?" Ron spat some of his soup onto the table. "See, she just makes everyone's life miserable!" Ron said, his spoon making a clunk as it hit the table next to his bowl.

"Not true, Ron. I think that Dobby's reallyenjoying his role as solecleaner ofGryffindor Tower."

Harry suddenly noticed the blood beginning to drain from Ron's face, and turned to see what was causing the startling reaction in his friend. Hermione sat about a half table down, and she was glaring angrily at him. Small tears begun to roll down her cheeks. She left her seat and quickly walked past the two young men, deliberately looking in the opposite direction so that she didn't have to see her friends.

"Where's she off to?" Ron whispered.

"I think you had better go apologise, Ron," Harry said knowledgably, drawing on his own experience with women.

"Yeah." Ron climbed from the bench seat awkwardly and set off at a quick pace to catch up with Hermione.

"Hermione!" Harry heard Ron calling from the entranceway. He hoped that Ron had managed to catch up with her, and would manage to make it up with her so that he didn't have to endure another one of their huffy silences for a week again.

A dark shadow appeared over the place where Harry was left sitting alone. Startled, he turned around to see what was blocking the light, and instantly wished he hadn't. Snape was towering over him, wearing an icy-cold glare complete with sneer and looking down at Harry along his big, hooked nose. His lanky hair was hanging in front of his face, making it look even more twisted.

Harry's emerald green eyes met Snape's cold, beady gaze. He felt a flash of anger and quickly turned his head so that he was looking over Snape's shoulder. He didn't want the man picking up on his feelings; it would only allow him to push Harry to the edge of his anger, push him to releasing it in front of the other staff. Harry would rather keep his private battle with the Professor to himself. He didn't want any more warnings from McGonagall or Dumbledore.

"Potter," Snape snarled at Harry. "A word in my office when you've finished."

"Uhm, okay then," Harry said to Snape. He was careful to wear a look of nonchalance. Inside, he was wondering what he had done to be summoned to his Potions Professor's office. He had been practising Occlumency on his own now; he had finished his lessons with Snape a few weeks in from the new school year. He therefore came to the conclusion that Snape's wanting to speak with him had something to do with Malfoy.

"Do hurry up," Snape said with a flick of his cape as he turned to exit the Great Hall. "I don't have all night."

Harry had finished eating as quickly as he could. He made his way to Snape's office in the dungeons with haste. He didn't want to keep the Potions master waiting for him too long. To do so would only heighten Snape's animosity towards him, and there was only so far he could go in defending himself against a teacher.

He knocked hard twice on the door to Snape's office.

"Come in," came Snape's chilling voice from inside.

Trying to open the door as smoothly as possible, Harry entered the office and closed the door behind him. Snape sat at his desk, enshrouded in a mist of darkness. He lent forwards into the light as Harry approached his desk.

Snape moved his lips wordlessly and Harry felt himself being hit by a spell. It was Snape accessing his mind, using his Legilimency powers against him.

Not being prepared for this mental onslaught, Snape gained access to Harry's thoughts and memories easily. The Professor was beginning to diginto the darkest recesses of Harry's mind, where Harry kept his most guarded secrets. A memory of a hand in his pocket was starting to form before Harry's eyes.

It was the memory of Hermione placing the note in his pocket.

"Hermione's note!" Harry thought suddenly. He had forgotten to read it.

The memory of Hermione had faded, and now he was facing one of the shelves that held Snape's special Potion's ingredients. Snape was slumped against this shelf, something gooey trickling down through his hair, along his angular cheek, and landing in his lap.

"I've got to go," Harry said as he bolted from the room and up the stairs leading from the dungeons.

"Potter!" Harry heard Snape bellow when he reached the final step and entered the corridor leading to the entranceway.

Harry continued running until he was standing breathlessly outside the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"Sneezewort," he gasped and the portrait swung open.

He ran through the common room, past Ron who was trying to ask him a question.

"Have you seen Hermione?"

Harry didn't answer. He ran up the stairs two at a time, he had to read that note. What was so secret that Hermione couldn't let Ron know?

Pushing open the door to his dormitory with such force that it banged loudly against the stone wall behind it, Harry entered his room. He threw himself onto his bed and bent over the edge, picking through the pile of dirty clothes he had left there. He was looking for the jeans he had worn on Saturday. Finding them, he searched his back pocket, and pulled from it a folded piece of parchment.

Unfolding the parchment, Harry's eyes skimmed over the message quickly and grew wide when he glanced at his watch.

_Meet me in the kitchens at 7:30. Alone._

It was already 7:45. He was fifteen minutes late.

Shoving the note in his pocket, he scrambled from his bed and ran out of the doorway.


	7. Ch7 Deceit is not a good thing

A/N: Thanks so much to Missybewitched, she has made this chapter so much better imo, it's unbelievable! So, thanks so much! 

**Chapter 7: Deceit is not a good thing.**

Racing from the Gryffindor common room, Harry kept his eyes open for Ron. He couldn't risk the lanky redhead following him, or else he would have to lie to his friend again. He breathed a sigh of relief when he didn't spot Ron in the common room, but that also meant that he was going to have to keep a look out for him as he ran towards his destination.

Harry ran at full pelt down the darkening Hogwarts corridors towards the kitchens. He kept throwing glances over his back to make sure that Ron hadn't seen him and wasn't trailing him. He had been lucky so far, it seemed that most of the school were in their dormitories, offices or in the library. He hadn't yet been reminded that he was breaking yet another school rule - that of running in the corridors, which was forbidden.

Harry came to a sudden halt at the staircases. He couldn't believe his lack of luck, the staircases were all moving. He was lucky that as he was approaching the landing he hadn't looked back for Ron; he would have run right over the edge. He crossed his arms and glared at the moving staircases, his heart beginning to beat faster. He would have to wait until they changed, otherwise he would need to take the longer way there. Harry didn't know if Hermione would wait that long for him. He took the opportunity to catch his breath for a few moments as he waited for the last staircase to move back into place.

Hermione's pretty face once again found its way into his tumultuous thoughts. Why had he kissed her? Why had his feelings for her changed so rapidly and then gone back to normal again? He supposed that he was just trying to live his life more, enjoy it more, and take more risks in the love stakes. He felt that it was just in case he ran out of time - ran out of life before he would like it to end.

There were nights when he would worry about Voldemort and the Prophecy, and days when depression would take him over. He still hadn't been able to break the news to Ron and Hermione; somehow, the time was never right to bring it up into their conversations. So, Harry ignored the inevitable, undesirable as it was. He worried about other things, and filled his mind with schoolwork and short skirts.

The staircases all finally crashed into place with an echoing rumble. He had begun to take his first step down towards the lower level, when he heard his name called from behind him.

He froze mid-step, balancing, and turned to face Ron, who had emerged from a tapestry a little way along the corridor, he had just ran pell-mell down.

"Have you seen Hermione?" Ron asked him again. "We have to start our prefect duties in fifteen minutes and I haven't been able to find her."

"No, I haven't seen Hermione since dinner." Harry said, knowing that he was at least telling the truth this time.

Ron slowly approached Harry's balancing form. "What the hell are you doing anyway?" Ron demanded of his friend. "Why are you running around the corridors at this time of night for?"

"Exercising," Harry said as he studied Ron's approach. He didn't want Ron to get any closer, just in case his friend's anger boiled over. He didn't want Ron to 'accidentally' push him down the stairs. He had to get Ron to move away in another direction. "Don't you two meet up somewhere anyway? Have you checked the library?"

"Yeah, we meet outside of McGonagall's office," Ron said sadly. "It's just that I haven't been able to apologise to her yet, since she ran out…" he trailed off looking towards the staircases above them that were starting to groan again. The noise was a telltale sign that they would be moving at any minute.

Harry was aware of this, and he tried his best to get rid of Ron. Hermione was already going to be furious with him, who knew what she would do if he brought Ron along with him when she had clearly asked to meet him alone. "Look, check the library, mate, that's my best guess about where she could be." Harry offered again, a firmer note in his tone, "books comfort her, you know they do."

Ron looked at him, a tiny twinkle beginning to form in his blue eyes. "Okay, Harry," he said mysteriously. " I'll go and check there. Bye."

"See you," Harry called behind him as he walked quickly down the stairs. Glancing at his watch, he began to run again. It was ten to eight.

* * *

He saw Hermione as she stomped up the marble steps of the Great Hall. 

"Hermione!" Harry called from above as he hurried down to meet her.

Her face was screwed up in anger a moment ago, but it changed into a beaming smile when she heard his voice and saw him making his way towards her.

"Harry!" Hermione called to him. "Quick, follow me!" She turned and quickly descended the marble staircase. Harry, who was much quicker at moving (having to avoid being hit by Dudley for the greater part of his life), caught up with her easily.

"You're late," Hermione scolded him as they stood in front of the fruit portrait, her left index finger gently ticking a large green pear until it began to giggle.

Harry threw out his palms in a defensive gesture and grinned at her. "At least I made it," he said. " If it wasn't for that bastard Snape, I wouldn't be here at all."

Hermione whipped around, tendrils of her hair flowing in all directions. Harry stepped back quickly. He didn't want to be hit in the face again. It still hurt from where Ron had slapped him. She looked at him confused.

"He pulled one of his Jedi mind tricks on me," Harry grinned at her, knowing that she would understand the reference, "and I remembered the note you gave me."

"How could you forget in the first place?" Hermione asked him as she led him by the arm over to a small table near the fireplace. "And what is Snape doing accessing your mind again? I thought you had finished with your Occlumency lessons?"

"To answer your first question," Harry began, "I had other things on my mind (like telling Ron that you like him, he thought). And to answer your second question, yes. I have finished my lessons with Snape. So, I have no better idea than you do about why he was trying to get into my mind."

Harry looked into Hermione's eyes and she blushed noticeably. She turned her attention to a loose button on her cardigan.

"I thought you weren't coming," Hermione said softly, breaking the awkward silence that had fallen between them. "I have to meet Ron in a few minutes, and I was hoping I would have had a bit longer to talk to you."

"Well, I'm here. Why don't you get started?" Harry said softly back.

Hermione took a deep breath and looked Harry in the eye.

"I spent the majority of my summer with Victor Krum."

"What!" Harry almost shouted at her, he was so surprised. She had told he and Ron that she had gone to some tropical island with her parents.

Hermione blushed a darker shade. "I didn't want to tell you because I thought that it would upset you. "

Harry raised his eyebrows at her.

"Okay, well, Ron then," Hermione replied to Harry's expression. "I think he, uhm..." She flushed an even deeper pink, "might like me more than a friend."

Harry grinned at her; he had never seen Hermione look so embarrassed. Not since Professor Snape had told her he saw no difference in the size of her teeth in fourth year. The memory of Snape dampened Harry's mood.

When Harry hadn't said anything, she continued. "Victor is coming here to visit me over Christmas," she said, "I mean us. Visiting us over Christmas. I don't know how to tell Ron."

"Tell Ron what?" Harry questioned her.

"That Victor is coming," she said not looking Harry in the eye.

"I'm sure he won't mind, Hermione," Harry told her. "He is a big fan of Krum's. It would be the best Christmas present he has ever received." He grinned at her again.

"Oh, shut up, Harry!" Hermione said playfully, smiling at him mischievously. She then flushed a rosy pink again. She looked into his eyes, blushed a deeper shade, and turned away.

Harry was confused over her behaviour. Was she flirting with him?

"Why did you have to tell me that in the kitchens?" Harry asked her as they left through the hidden door. "Couldn't you have told me that anywhere?"

"Oh!" Hermione said. "I completely forgot."

"Looks like I'm not the only one," Harry replied, laughing at her.

"I'll tell you later." Hermione started to walk faster. "I really have to go and meet Ron."

"Mr Potter, just who I was looking for," a stern, crisp voice rung out from the entrance to the Great Hall.

Harry spun around. Professor McGonagall was approaching him, leaning stiffly on her cane. "Come with me, Harry," she said as she began to laboriously climb the marble staircase.

"You have been summoned by the Headmaster. He wishes to speak with you regarding the incident with Professor Snape this evening."

Harry accompanied his professor up the marble stairs and along the corridor. He didn't like the tone that she was using with him. It suggested that he had been party to a serious incident - one that would result in a detention. Why was he in trouble when it was Snape that had attacked him?

"So, what is your relationship with Miss Granger these days?" McGonagall sprung on him as they approached the stone gargoyle.

Blushing, Harry replied, "we're just friends." He glanced sideways at McGonagall as she said the password, "Canary Creams". She didn't look satisfied with his answer. Had she heard the rumours too? Harry thought as he smiled about the use of one of the names of Fred and George's sweets being used for the Headmaster's password. They would be pleased about that.


	8. All Muddled Up

A/N: Hi there. Sorry that it has taken me so long to post the next chapter! Just after I posted Chapter 7, my life became busy then and hasn't yet slowed down! I'll try and write a little bit more now and then – because I really want to finish this:) 

Thanks to Missybewitched for her lovely Beta work – especially now as assignments need to be done, she has her own masterpiece to complete and her trusty computer has been irking her!

Without further ado, I give you Chapter 8… some more mysteries will begin to be revealed….

**Chapter 8 – All Muddled Up**

McGonagall slowly pushed open the large ornate dark oak door to Dumbledore's office and guided Harry inside with a soft pressure between his shoulder blades. Harry supposed that she hadn't bothered to knock to announce their presence because the Headmaster of Hogwarts was expecting them.

The first thing that Harry noticed when he stepped into Dumbldore's office was that it wasn't as brightly lit as it was every time he had been there, and he had been there a lot - possibly even more than Fred and George. The office was dull and misty, and when Harry spotted Dumbledore, he realised why.

Dumbledore was seated at his chair behind his large antique desk, scrolls of parchment scattered all over the top of it. Pale blue piercing eyes looked gravely at Harry from beneath half-moon spectacles. He had seen Dumbledore wear this expression before, but somehow this time his expression seemed even more serious.

"Please sit down Harry," Dumbledore said quietly as he gestured to a rigid wooden chair directly in front of his desk. Harry complied, beginning to feel like he was about to be interrogated. What was unfolding before his very eyes was reminding him of his Muggle identity, bringing to the forefront of his mind the episodes he had seen of The Bill, when his Aunt Petunia had made him scrub the carpets under her watchful yet distracted eye. The wooden chair was a far cry from Dumbledore's typical squishy chintz chairs. As soon as he sat down his senses were raised instantly and he was taken over by a defensive mood.

Looking up, emerald green met pale blue, and he felt a sudden surge of hatred course through his veins. This sudden rush of hatred was an uncomfortable reminder to Harry of the link he still shared with Voldemort. Looking away quickly, and breathing deeply, he expelled the anger from his body and mind. He concentrated on the shiny metal instruments sitting on the spindly-legged table to his right. The wondrous instruments that Dumbledore used on occasion had always fascinated him since the first time he saw them.

"Professor Snape was severely injured tonight."

Harry whipped his head around to look at Dumbledore. He was peering at him intently, watching his every move and reaction.

"You were the last person to see him," Dumbledore said while studying Harry's face.

Harry stared straight back at the Headmaster. He could not believe his ears. Surely he must know that any injury sustained by the greasy-headed Potions Master was the Potion Master's own fault, as well as being an accident. Was Dumbledore suggesting that what he had done was intentional? That he was not in control of his own wand? That he was being used by Voldemort to strike down the teachers of Hogwarts one by one and that Dumbledore would be next?

"I am not implying anything Harry," Dumbledore said carefully as he felt the surrounding air vibrate with the anger that was starting to radiate from the boy-who-lived. "Can you tell me what you remember about your meeting with Professor Snape tonight? About what time did you leave his office?"

Harry recounted his story to Dumbledore. He told the Headmaster about how Snape had sneakily struck him from the shadows of his bat cave with the Legilimency spell when he hadn't expected it and how he had only hurt Snape in self-defence.

As Harry told Dumbledore and McGonagall about this part of the evening, Dumbledore arose abruptly from his chair (well, as abrupt as he could for someone of his age).

"When I ran from the room he was shouting my name," Harry continued. "You know, like he always does in that voice of his…"

Harry then did his best impression of Snape saying, "Potter!" But he noticed that neither adult was paying him any attention. He turned in his chair to see McGonagall send Dumbledore a significant look that they shared for the briefest of seconds. Catching a faint sparkle in his peripheral vision, Harry turned more and noticed a faint ball of light slowly fading. It looked as if a handful of gold glitter had burst mid-air, and was now falling softly to land on the hard, wooden floor.

"Harry, do you remember seeing anything as you left Professor Snape's office?" Dumbledore asked quickly as he walked around his desk to stand next to Professor McGonagall.

"No."

"Minerva, would you please escort Harry back to his dormitory?" Dumbledore said as he looked thankfully towards the spot where the golden flecks of glitter were falling softly to the floor.

"Of course," Professor McGonagall said as she beckoned to Harry to stand up.

"When Harry is safe in Gryffindor Tower, meet me at the Hospital wing. Professor Snape has gained consciousness."

* * *

Harry couldn't look Professor McGonagall in the eye as they walked along the deserted corridors towards Gryffindor Tower. He had a strong feeling that his head of house believed him to be lying about two things tonight – what he had 'done' to Professor Snape and his relationship with Hermione. Walking along, he felt the eyes of all the portraits following him. He heard their hushed conversations, following him from floor to floor like a slow, silent wave wending itself along the corridors. 

Professor McGonagall walked him to the foot of the stairs that lead to the dormitories, and watched with eagle eyes as he climbed each stone step and entered the room that he shared with Ron, Neville, Seamus and Dean.

Ron's bedside curtains were drawn tight, but no characteristic loud snore could be heard emanating from within. Harry walked past silently and quickly changed into his pyjamas. He suddenly felt very isolated.

* * *

Harry awoke the next morning to find that he had overslept. He jumped out of his bed, covers falling in a heap to the cold, stone floor, and moved to give Ron a sharp poke (as was typical when this thing happened, as Harry always found he was the first to wake up), to find that Ron's bed was empty. And not only was it empty, he had left it in an immaculate condition. 

Harry jumped as the dormitory door opened with a bang. He looked up, startled from his quiet, mesmerizing, contemplations of Ron's perfect bed-making skills. Ron could beat Aunt Petunia hands down at her favourite pastime any day, he really could.

Neville stomped over to his school trunk and flung it open. Clothes and other things flew all over Neville's bed and surrounding area.

"Something wrong, Neville?" Harry inquired, forgetting that he was running late and should be rushing around as madly as Neville was now.

Neville spun around in surprise and dropped his Herbology book on his left foot. He howled in pain.

"I didn't know you were here, Harry," Neville said as he collapsed onto his bed and began rubbing his foot feverishly. "Ron's down at breakfast, I guess I assumed you were down there, too."

Harry turned his back on Neville and begun collecting his clothes from various places around his bed. "What's the rush?" he said quickly, changing the subject from Ron.

"I forgot I have my Herbology exam today," Neville said as he jumped from his bed and made his way towards the door. "It's open book, so I'm going to need this," he said, waving the book above his head as he exited the room.

"Good luck," Harry called after him, knowing perfectly well that Neville wouldn't need it. He knew that Neville would receive top grades even without the comfort of having his textbook with him.

* * *

Harry entered the Great Hall to once again find himself the subject of juicy gossip. As soon as he planted his foot onto the smooth, stone floor, his presence was greeted with intense stares and whispers from the students and staff of the school. 

Harry made his way towards the Gryffindor table. On his way, he passed Ginny who was on her way out, having finished her breakfast. He looked into her eyes and gave her a soft smile; she turned her head to look the other way, sticking her nose in the air as she did so, a red tinge starting to dust her cheeks.

Narrowing his eyes at her retreating back, Harry wondered why Ginny had suddenly began to act like a stuck up cow. He stomped over and slouched down next to Hermione grabbing a plate of toast and pulling it towards him. Ron, who was sitting half a table away stood up suddenly and stormed from the hall.

"You're looking delicious this morning," Hermione grinned at him as she finished her pumpkin juice.

"Okay," Harry muttered through a mouthful of toast not paying her any attention. He was still fuming over Ginny's response to his friendly smile.

"Didn't you just see about every girl in this place swoon with desire when you entered the hall with your sexy bed hair, stubble and rugged appearance?" she said devilishly as she put the strap of her bag over her shoulder and stood up.

Harry suddenly felt hot as he realised what Hermione was saying. "Shut up Hermione!" He called after her as she gave him a quick wink before leaving for Arithmancy.

* * *

After a morning class and a small recess that Harry spent in solitude, (Ron and Hermione were nowhere to be found), he met his friends in the Charms classroom. They were working in pairs again to practice the _Immobimovilus_ and _Andalescius_ charms. Harry had been working with Ron in the previous lesson, and he turned to give Ron a wave to signal for him to join him, only to find that Ron was already on the other side of the classroom practicing with Parvati. 

"You can practice with me, Harry," Hermione said in a sombre tone. Harry nodded.

Hermione had already mastered the charms and insisted that Harry take the time to practice on her. Harry felt comfortable with _Immobimovilus_ and therefore concentrated his efforts on _Andalescius_.

"_Andalescius_!" He cast his wand at Hermione, performing a complicated flicking swirl that he suspected he had confused with the hand movements of another charm. A light twinkling white light emitted from the end of his wand and swept past Hermione.

"IhearProfessnapeinhoswing," Hermione said, concern littering every inch of her quickly ticking facial features.

"What?" Harry asked, bemused.

"_Immbimus_," Hermione said quickly, pointing her wand at herself, and somehow managing to perform another complicated serious of movements with her wand hand turned at an awkward angle.

"I heard that Professor Snape is in the Hospital Wing," she said again, concern still evident in her tone and on her face.

"I didn't do anything!" Harry snapped at her defensively, realising belatedly that he had raised his voice unintentionally as the murmurs of his classmates died and their eyes were all looking in his direction. "Sorry…what do you care for anyway?"

Hermione blushed and looked away.

"Ron isn't speaking to me."

"It seems that he's not speaking to me as well," Harry said while rubbing his wand between his fingers absentmindedly while staring over Hermione's shoulder.

"I think he has the absurd idea that we're seeing each other," Hermione said while taking a quick glance to see Harry's reaction.

"What!"

"Miss Granger! Mr Potter! If you cannot keep your voices to acceptable levels I will have to separate you." Professor Flitwick said. His warning met with sniggers from the rest of the class. Somehow being warned by the Professor did not sound so serious because his voice was rather squeaky. His warnings were unable to muster fear in the students, such as a put down quip from the likes of Professor Snape could.

Harry noticed that Ron was glaring at them bothangrily. His wand was pointing to the floor and Parvati was busy smothering a small fire that had erupted on her robes.

Hermione and Harry blushed, and returned to practice their charms in silence.


	9. No Golden Lining

A/N: Haha this is me procrastinating. I'd say I'll probably regret it…but this is my work too :) Thanks to Missybewitched, who is in a similar situation to mine. This also (kinda) stops me from wolfing down all my chocolate- almost! 

**Chapter 9 – No Golden Lining**

Harry found Hermione sitting by the lake late Friday afternoon. The air had a hint of a crisp chill to it, which was a telltale sign that winter was approaching. He watched her from a distance for a few minutes before she became aware of his presence. Turning her head, she smiled softly at him and waved him over, before returning once more to staring with unfocused, chocolate eyes over the dark, placid water.

His dragon hide Quidditch boots made soft crunches as he ploughed through the leaves littering the Hogwarts grounds. He thought she looked like a fallen angel from afar, her hair billowing out in all directions, tendrils of it carried softly by the gentle wind. As he got closer, he could see her expression more clearly. Tear stains marred her rose-red cheeks. She looked terribly sad and cold.

Harry sat down beside her and wrapped his arms around her protectively, shielding her from the wind that was biting at their exposed flesh. He brought his head to rest snugly in her ferocious locks and whispered in her ear.

"Mione, I think you had better tell me what's going on."

Hermione buried her head into his robes, sobbing softly. He held her tighter and stroked her hair. He could fully understand what she was going through. He too had felt the shock and hurt of losing a good friend over misinterpretations and jealousy. However, instead of being moody and stomping about in a foul temper like he had previously, she had internalised the hurt and become sullen, her mood dampening with every passing day.

They had both experienced a similar situation in their fourth year, but somehow it was now more serious. Emotions ran higher and things they had thought had been solved, now showed to be weak at the seams. With a prod and a nudge, the seams had broken open. Harry believed that Hermione felt like her life had been torn apart.

Harry had thought that Monday was bad, but he had been wrong. Stories about Hermione and himself had started to percolate the school rumour mill that had previously been running strong with Death Eater attacks and Voldemort since school started. Now the whole school knew, thanks to eyewitness accounts, about the kiss that he had shared with Hermione. Of course, this bore resemblance to Rita Skeeter's article…but it was different this time.

Harry suspected that Hermione's confused feelings about Ron were now paramount, as were Ron's feelings about her, and about him. Harry cared for both his friends, but now he was starting to feel like he should have done more to get them together instead of waiting for nature to take its course.

Ron hadn't spoken to him since Sunday night and Harry didn't know what had happened. He thought that his best friend would have apologised to his crush by now, that they would have made up, and that all three of them would spend the next day lollygagging in Hogsmeade, before he would discreetly disappear to give his friends some time alone.

But sadly, Harry knew that wouldn't happen tomorrow. Ron avoided him every chance he got; and he was making sure that Harry knew it. He was always on the opposite side of the Quidditch pitch during practice, would turn around to laugh at Harry from the bench in front in Potions when their substitute teacher stepped into Snape's shoes with an almost perfect fit and snarled at Harry, he left the dining table in the Great Hall when Harry sat down. In the Gryffindor common room, he looked pointedly at Harry and complained that someone had _guffed_ and he couldn't stand the smell. This was met with giggles from every first year within earshot.

Ginny had been avoiding him as well, and he had been stunned when he noticed that she avoided Hermione too. For a few days Harry had wondered whether Ron was being horrible to Hermione since he couldn't avoid her during their prefect duties. He was intrigued when he walked past them under his invisibility cloak on his way back from the prefect's bathroom, to find Ron talking politely to her. He only caught on that something was wrong when he heard the stiffness in Ron's tone, and saw the pained expression on Hermione's face. The truth could no longer be denied — the Golden Trio was no more.

Hermione's sobbing subsided and she was gulping down the cool air. She sniffled and looked at Harry, smiling apologetically when she saw the seeping wet patch she had left on his shoulder. He smiled back at her and adjusted his glasses.

"I don't know when it all went so wrong, Harry," Hermione said as she wiped her eyes with the sleeves of her cloak. "You would think he was brainwashed or something. I half expected an apology from him on Sunday, but all I got was a stony silence. He didn't even say goodnight."

"I don't know, Hermione," Harry said. He rubbed some blades of grass between his left forefinger and thumb and watched as they fell onto the ground. "Did you try speaking to him? Did you tell him how you felt? If I open my mouth he turns around and walks away, it's like he doesn't even want to hear the truth."

Hermione shook her head and pulled her cloak more tightly around her. "Every time I see him I tell him it's not the truth, that we're not seeing each other. I'm starting to sound like a broken record now. He looks right through me and says that I don't need to lie to him, that he's happy for us," she stared into Harry's emerald eyes.

They sat a few more minutes in silence, watching the reflection of the sky as it became steadily darker. The lights in the castle began to light up, one by one.

"Maybe we should just be together so that he knows what it's really like!" Hermione burst out crossly.

"I don't think that would be a good idea, Mione," Harry said standing up and stretching. "Let's head back now, it's getting a bit too cold out here."

Harry waited as Hermione stood up, and he took her hand to help her steady herself. Her hands were icy cold, so Harry gave her his scarf to wear and pulled her close. He continued to hold her hand, worried that she was so cold she would shatter if she stumbled to the ground.

"I think I'll write to Lupin and ask him for some advice," Harry said more to himself than Hermione as he held the door to the foyer open for her.

"That's a good idea, Harry."

Harry forgot to let go of Hermione's hand when they entered the Great Hall, and regretted his carelessness instantly. This mark of friendship, innocent in itself, was a costly mistake, the major repercussions of which would come later.

When they stepped into the Great Hall they were met with silence and greedy stares from the staff and students. To the eyes of the school, the rumours had been confirmed. Harry and Hermione were dating.

* * *

to _guff_. I came across this term in a UK Teen Mag – it means to pass wind i.e. fart. 


	10. Mischief Uncovered

A/N: Thanks to all those who have read and reviewed so far. A special thanks goes to my Beta Missybewitched mwha. Thanks for fitting this is when you have so much going on!

See another of my A/Ns at the end of this chapter for a little more information - after you have read this chapter of course - I don't want to spoil anything.

This chapter has been edited and posted again due to a mistake. Never mind though! Chapter 11 has been started, and should be up soon - as I have just about finished all my homework! Yay!

**Chapter 10 – Mischief Uncovered**

Harry found Hermione in the common room mid-morning, curled up in an old comfy chair that she had turned to face the window. An ugly crocheted blanket (which Harry suspected was of her own creation, formed sometime last year judging from the untidy stitching) covered her legs on which a large, furry, ginger lump sat. Her face was buried behind a large book, and she was oblivious to all that was going on around her.

The Gryffindor common room was filled with a buzz of excitement. Students were collecting their cloaks and gold before heading to the all-wizarding village of Hogsmeade. Some students lingered, conspicuously watching Harry and Hermione.

Overnight, the wizarding population of Great Britain and Wales had become annoyingly interested in the supposedly torrid love affair of Harry and Hermione. The Daily Prophet, much like the tabloids of the Muggle world, had arrived later than usual that morning due to a last minute change to their cover story. It was now assumed by all that the pair had made their relationship public knowledge by mistake, and the news of it had spread like a wildfire. Harry now believed he knew how the Muggle Royal Family felt, with things being invented by the press just to increase sales.

Harry perched on the edge of Hermione's chair. He did not see a reason not to physically distance himself from her; Harry didn't think that the gossip would ease if he avoided his friend. Instead, the rumours would probably flare merrily to mock his efforts and there would be headlines in the Daily Prophet the next day about the 'golden couple' breaking up.

"Coming to Hogsmeade?" Harry asked as he glared menacingly at a second year girl who dared to attempt to eavesdrop on them.

"What do you think?" Hermione bit out icily. "There's a whole media circus just waiting to snap photos of the happy young couple."

"You can't let this stop you from enjoying life 'Mione," Harry tried to reason with her.

"That's a no, okay Harry, I've already started to receive the hate mail again," she suddenly turned her eyes from the book in front of her to look into Harry's.

Harry gasped when he saw her face. An angry red palm print covered the left half of it.

"Those wenches are sending invisible limbs through the Owl Post now, I've already sent a letter asking Fred and George to pull them from the shelves until everything settles down," she sighed sadly. "But I don't think they will be too obliging seeming that I have been the cause of heartbreak in two of their siblings."

Hermione turned back to reading her book.

Leaning over, precariously on the edge of Hermione's chair, Harry took the book from her hands and placed it on the windowsill.

"Come with me," Harry grinned at her. "If you don't come I'll probably pick you out something awful for Christmas and then you won't be speaking to me either."

Hermione humoured him with a sarcastic smile, and a roll of her eyes, and retrieved her book from the windowsill, opening it to the exact page she was reading before Harry interrupted her.

Again he leaned over and placed his hands on the book.

Without warning Hermione snapped the book closed with a mad fluttering of pages. Harry jerked his fingers out of range of the pages, honed Quidditch reflexes saving him from agonising pain.

"You're not going to leave me alone if I don't go with you, are you?" she glared at him with a sullen, defeated expression. Her arms were crossed defensively across her chest, proof of her dislike at the idea of venturing beyond the safe walls of the common room. Beyond the portrait of The Fat Lady, lurked the students from other houses and a newly reinstated Rita Skeeter. Only the Gryffindors could bother her within these walls.

"Look," Harry bent down to whisper in her ear. "If it makes you feel any better, I'll go and get my cloak and map so we don't have to worry about running into anyone."

Looking slightly relieved, Hermione nodded her approval and stood up, tipping the large, furry, ginger lump unceremoniously onto the floor. Crookshanks hissed at them before bounding off towards the girl's dormitories. She whispered back, "I'll meet you in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom in fifteen minutes."

Harry watched as she gathered her blanket from the floor and disappeared through the door to the girl's dormitories.

"Where is it!" Harry exclaimed loudly as he searched underneath his mattress for the umpteenth time. He had looked everywhere and he couldn't find the Marauder's Map.

His trunk lay empty at the foot of his bed; his clothes were spread haphazardly all over the floor. Piles of books were in shambles, having been flicked through quickly and then dumped on the stone floor in exasperation. Harry ran his hands through his dark, untidy hair and glanced at his watch. He had already spent ten minutes looking for the map.

Bending down on hands and knees he looked under his bed. He pulled his wand from his waistband (he still hadn't lost a buttock yet as the fake Moody had warned).

"_Lumos_." A bright light emitted from the end of his wand, illuminating the space beneath his bed. Nothing but some odd socks, a pile of dust and what suspiciously looked to Harry like an adult magazine were under his bed. Harry lowered himself onto his stomach and reached out his hand, his fingers could just reach the magazine. He pressed hard down on the cover and dragged it towards him, curiosity filling every cubic centimetre of him. He knew of these kinds of magazines existing in the Muggle word – Dudley and his friends would often pour over them in the park after dark. He didn't know that wizards 'read' these as well. Harry suddenly realised just how much more interesting the wizarding versions could be. After all, Muggle pictures are just pictures, but wizarding pictures _can_ move…

"_Nox_."

He lent back against his bed, knees drawn to his chest and wand discarded by his side. He turned the cover the correct way around and was instantly disappointed. It was only an outdated edition of the Quibbler, one of the first copies it seemed. A young pretty witch in a provocative pose winked at him. Wondering what it was doing under his bed, Harry flicked through the edition absent-mindedly. He was just starting to remember again that he should be looking for the map when the glossy picture in front of him caught his eye.

A young, voluptuous woman (the same one from the cover) in tight red and green striped robes was draped along a broomstick in an alluring pose, which she kept changing once she knew she had the handsome Seeker's attention. Beautiful, curled, shimmering, brunette locks slid along her shoulders and all the way down her back. As Harry was watching mesmerised, she transfigured her broomstick into a Unicorn. He turned to read the accompanying article.

_Is Miss Wizarding World 1945 All That She Seems?_

_Miss Minevra has been proclaimed the most beautiful Witch in the recent Miss Wizarding World Pageant. She excels in her favourite sport of Quidditch, and despite all the knocks and tumbles still manages to maintain her natural beauty._

_Or does she?_

_Sources who wish to remain anonymous claim that Miss Minevra (who is an accomplished Animagus and who received top N.E.W.Ts in all her subjects, including Transfiguration) has magically manipulated her looks in order to win this year's Miss Wizarding World Pageant._

_Miss Minevra denies these allegations claiming that her looks are natural and the only magic she invests in to maintain her beautiful natural charms, are Mr Lillguster's Smooth Skin Lotion and plenty of beauty sleep (we of which think could be a term for a special magical spell)._

Harry's eyes flicked back to the young woman on the other page, back to the article, and then back to the picture. In shock he threw the magazine across the room, it's spine hit the stone wall and it then crumpled to a heap on the cold floor. He squeezed his eyes shut for a few seconds behind his dark frames, trying to calm his breathing. He was disgusted with himself. He was ogling his teacher!

He sat for a few more seconds in a traumatized silence, he couldn't shake the image of the broom from his mind….how she clung to it so elegantly….and then his pride and joy appeared before his eyes – his Firebolt.

"_Accio_ _Map_!" Harry blurted out. He couldn't believe how forgetful he was sometimes.

A few metres away, the pillow on Ron's bed exploded in a burst of feathers that spread throughout the room covering it in a soft, downy layer. The map zoomed towards Harry, who held out both of his hands to catch it neatly. His surprise and elation at recovering his map and doing magic without his wand kept his mind occupied for a few moments before the realisation of what he had discovered dawned on him.

The map had come from Ron's bed. Ron had stolen it.

Harry jumped from the floor, in a furious temper, grabbed his cloak and flung it over his shoulders and pulled its hood over to cover his head. He bent down and retrieved his wand from the floor before rushing off to meet Hermione.

Harry mused to himself that if he ran into Ron…well Ron had better watch out. The misguided redhead had been spying on them, but coming to the wrong conclusions.

* * *

A/N: I spelt 'Minerva' as 'Minevra' on purpose – like a secret identity. 


	11. Close Encounters

A/N: It has taken me awhile to get this next chapter up – I have been pretty busy. I was also challenged my Missybewitched to write 3000 words….meaning it has taken me a bit longer to get this up! Stay posted, I want to get this finished! Lots of surprises. Try and guess :) Though hopefully it is a little easier to guess now. 

More thanks to Missybewitched for Beta-ing this in record time!

**Chapter 11 – Close Encounters**

Harry slowed down from his murderous rampage and took slow, silent steps when he heard what sounded like teachers' voices coming from around the corner of the corridor he was planning to run down. He crept closer to the wall, not wanting to alert them to his presence; he was already late meeting Hermione, so he hoped he would be able to slip past them quietly. Moaning Myrtle's bathroom was at the end of the corridor, and if he was caught in there he didn't think he would have a chance of going to Hogsmeade. Not that being confined to the school grounds would stop him; it just meant that he would have to be more creative when it came to avoiding being seen by the wrong people.

Harry peeked around the corner and had to cover his mouth with his hand to stop himself from shouting out an expletive and giving his invisible presence away. He had thought that he would have the weekend to find a potion or spell to remove the recent, unpleasant memory of ogling a young and pert McGonagall. He had not yet learnt the Memory Charm so he wasn't in any rush to cast it on himself. And he had been reminded as recently as last year of what happened when the charm was applied inappropriately. Harry didn't think he would have come this close to his Transfiguration Professor until Tuesday when he had his NEWT class.

Feeling a familiar heat beginning to creep up his neck, Harry turned his attention to the conversation between McGonagall and Flitwick. The two teachers stood in the middle of the corridor, their eyes flicking from side to side intermittently as they spoke in what Harry suspected they thought were hushed voices. However, due to the height discrepancy, they both had to whisper a little louder, which meant that Harry could hear them perfectly from where he stood hidden from their flicking eyes under his cloak.

"Has he been able to tell Dumbledore who attacked him?" Flitwick inquired eagerly in his high-pitched voice, his ears twitching with interest. He wore a dark green blazer with small golden tassels, which swung side to side as he bounced on the balls of his feet excitedly.

McGonagall shook her inclined head sadly, the red shawl she had wrapped around her shoulders slipping beneath her gnarled fingers. "He wakes at odd hours for a few brief moments and then falls back into unconsciousness. We have no idea what spell was cast on him, we only know that it was a spell."

The two teachers stood in respected silence for they knew the gravity of the situation that had befallen one of their colleagues. The silence ticked by into minutes and Harry was starting to worry. If they didn't say anything, there would be no noise to cover the sound of his footsteps and he knew that Professor McGonagall had excellent hearing due to her animagus abilities.

"I wonder who it could have been," Flitwick said, breaking the silence. "What does the Headmaster think of all this? I haven't been able to speak with him these past few days. He has been hard to get hold of."

"Dumbledore has his suspicions," McGonagall began, and she bent her body lower to whisper in Flitwick's ear so that Harry had to strain to hear.

"He thinks…" McGonagall shuddered. "He thinks it might be a student at the school. A sixth year"

Flitwick squeaked.

"And the student is?" Flitwick prompted.

"Harry Potter is under close observation." Flitwick gasped with astonishment. McGonagall shot him a stern look for interrupting her.

"Dumbledore wants to be sure before he makes his move…" McGonagall broke off, snapping her head around in response to a scuffle from the other side of the corridor.

Luna Lovegood was wandering aimlessly along the corridor towards the teachers. Her silvery locks floated behind her, strips of what looked like cellophane hung from the headband she was wearing, giving her a floaty, under-the-sea appearance. Harry thought that he would remain frozen in the spot forever. He couldn't believe what he had overheard. If Dumbledore had believed his story, then why was he being watched?

Luna's abrupt presence had sent the teachers scuttling towards the staff room where they could continue their conversation away from the ears of bumbling students. Harry watched Luna impatiently as she walked oddly along the stone corridor; her knobbly-kneed long legs were covered in hairy blue stockings. Her feet were hidden under purple ankle length boots, with which she was taking three steps forward and then two steps backwards with, the clicks of her soles echoing down the corridor with each concentrated step.

Harry decided that he couldn't wait around the corner for her to walk oddly past him. He could be waiting there for at least an hour and he was already late. Carefully, he checked that his cloak was still covering him and slowly crept around the corner and into the corridor.

Silently opening the door to the girl's lavatories, Harry crept in. He hoped that Luna would not notice that the door had appeared to open and close on its own accord. Harry spotted Hermione standing in front of the grimy sinks, slowly washing her hands. He was just about to make her aware of his presence by whipping off his cloak dashingly (as was his sense of humour), when Moaning Myrtle slid out of the spout that Hermione had just been using.

Rolling her eyes, Hermione moved around to another basin, and pulled the sleeve of her plum overcoat into her palm. She lent over the basin that was slowly succumbing to mould, and reaching out with her hand, cleaned the dirt-streaked mirror with the sleeve of her coat. Seemingly satisfied with her Muggle cleaning skills, she stood back and began to closely examine her appearance in the mirror. She applied a kind of white powder to her face, concentrating her efforts on one area in particular. It looked like she was trying to conceal the angry red mark that presently stood out dominantly on her face.

Harry took a step closer, beginning to feel uncomfortable; he was starting to feel like he was spying on Hermione. Myrtle, who had been sobbing about her own pale, pasty appearance and lamenting about not having beautiful, soft, peachy skin, stared at him.

A sneaky smile crept across her lips and Myrtle moved from her position above the toilet cubicles to float just above Hermione's head.

"So, getting ready to meet Harry are you?" Myrtle teased, her ghostly figure swaying slightly in the chilly air.

"Yes, I am actually," Hermione said matter-of-factly as she pulled her wand from her coat pocket, and began to curl her long lashes around its tip.

"I guess you like him a lot, don't you?" Myrtle inquired as her eyes watched Hermione apply her lip gloss, following every purposefully slick movement.

"Like who?" Hermione said vaguely, a glimmer in her eye.

"Harry, of course!" Myrtle said with annoyance.

"Oh," Hermione said grinning at the ghost, her perfect white teeth gleaming in the dim light. "Of course I do, what a silly question." Harry could tell that she was beginning to enjoy teasing Myrtle.

"How long have you been seeing each other?" Myrtle spit out, she turned to glare at Harry.

"We're not seeing each other," Hermione said softly. Harry shook his head with agreement at the ghost who was still staring at him.

The smile faded from Hermione's glossy lips. "We're just friends…" Hermione trailed off as she stared at herself in the mirror. Harry thought she looked crestfallen for the briefest of seconds before she turned her attention to her hair, beginning to smooth the frizz from her luxurious, auburn curls.

"You don't need to lie to me Hermione, everyone knows…" Myrtle sat on the basin in front of Hermione, waiting for her response.

Hermione continued to style her hair, squinting her eyes so that she could see her reflection in the mirror through the ghost. Harry wondered if she had even heard Myrtle.

Myrtle blew a raspberry right up close to Hermione's face so that it forced her to take a step back and look at the ghost. "Everyone knows that you're having relations!"

"WHAT!" Hermione yelled at Myrtle, her wand flying out of her hand clattering across the tiles of the bathroom, before finally landing in a mouldy corner. Her face had turned tomato red and she was breathing furiously. Harry too felt his face prickling, and dashed towards the door as quickly and as quietly as he could. He didn't want Hermione to know that he had heard anything, and he hoped that Myrtle wouldn't give him away.

Harry stretched his hand out towards the door handle as he was approaching it. He had decided that his best action would be to vacate the bathroom as quickly as he possibly could, recover from his embarrassment outside, and then re-enter the bathroom without his cloak, and act calmly and coolly so that Hermione wouldn't suspect a thing, eliminating the possible awkwardness that could occur if she knew that he knew what Myrtle had insinuated.

Almost jumping out of his skin, Harry stumbled on the rough stone floor as the door to the corridor began to open and someone walked in. He was trying to stop himself from colliding with the floaty colourful creature that had entered the room.

His right hand and long fingers that had been stretched out longingly towards the door handle, had grabbed a hold of something else entirely. Harry gaped as he realised that it was Luna that had glided into the bathroom, and his hand was reaching out straight towards her chest.

Luna's eyes which had been unfocused a split-second ago when she had entered the bathroom, had shot wide open with surprise as she felt the pressure on her chest and the coldness of the stone floor chilling her body. It had happened so quickly that she was confused to how and why she was lying on the floor.

Hermione had spun around when she heard the frightful noise, and she ran towards Luna.

"Are you alright?" Hermione's voice was filled with concern as she knelt down beside the white-blonde haired girl.

Luna looked at her, a fearful look evident in her glassy-blue eyes; a worried expression had taken over the vacant facial expression she usually wore.

"Luna?" Hermione shook Luna's left shoulder gently.

Harry lay still, panic stricken. He had no idea what to do, no plan of action, or way out of this situation that he could think of. He was completely paralysed, sprawled on top of Luna's bony body like some crazed criminal.

Luna now looked solemn.

"Don't cry Hermione, it's my time to go," Luna whispered as she stared blankly at the ceiling.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "What is it Luna?"

"The Grim."

"The Grim?" Hermione whispered. Harry knew that Hermione didn't believe in such things, she probably thought that Luna had become more eccentric due to a nasty bump on the head from tripping over clumsily and landing on the hard stone floor. Under the present circumstance, Hermione would be more likely to go and get Madame Pomfrey than Professor Trelawney. Suddenly, a thought occurred to Harry. If he could get Hermione to go to the hospital wing to fetch Madame Pomfrey, then he would be able to escape this situation unscathed. He then felt a bit uncomfortable as he realised that his thinking was leaning more towards a Slytherin's than a Gryffindor's.

"Oooooh," Luna moaned, "I'm finding it hard to breathe. This pressure is just too much."

"Don't be silly, there's nothing on your chest!" Hermione moved closer.

"Look, see".

And then her hands came into contact with Harry's head, pushing his glasses to one side.

Hermione screamed an ear-splitting shriek and scrambled back towards the wall as far away from Luna's body as she could get. Harry knew that she hadn't expected to feel anything at all, and it was this unexpected surprise that had caused her to scream. Although Harry felt bad for frightening her, he hoped that she would now believe Luna and leave the bathroom.

Harry watched Hermione so that he would know when he could stand without getting in her way and escape from the bathroom. Harry watched as she calmed down almost instantly. He felt every muscle in his body tense up. She could see him.

Hermione stood up and brushed the dust from her coat. She then walked over to Luna and Harry, and kicked Harry's grotty sneaker with disgust before she reached down and removed Harry's cloak with a flick of her wrist.

Scrambling off Luna and readjusting his glasses, Harry looked apologetically at Hermione and once more felt his face beginning to prickle. They both bent over and helped Luna to her feet.

Instead of looking embarrassed, as Harry thought she would, Luna smiled knowingly at them both.

"Don't worry," she said as she walked towards the toilet stalls, "your secret is safe with me."

Hermione looked at her retreating back incredulously, her face flushing a deep crimson.

Harry quickly took Hermione's arm and led her from the bathroom. As soon as they stepped into the corridor she yanked her arm from his grasp. They walked along the corridors in silence as they headed towards the Grand Entrance.

Finally, Harry broke the awkward silence when they were close to the Grand Staircase. He pulled Hermione behind a statue of a witch, and looked in all directions to make sure that no one would see them slipping under the invisibility cloak.

"C'mon, Hermione," he said smiling lamely, "let's go shopping."

She shot him a brief smile as she covered herself with his cloak, but quickly turned her head away as her cheeks became flushed.

The pair walked awkwardly out of the large entranceway and down the stone steps. They continued with their awkward gait down the dirt path that led to the wizarding village of Hogsmeade. Their efforts at trying not to touch each other too much was making their journey laboriously slow.

Harry didn't know what to say. He thought he had succeeded at overcoming the awkwardness between them back inside the castle, but obviously, he had failed dismally. Hermione was still not talking to him, was still not looking at him, and was still keeping herself as far away as possible without leaving the sanctuary of the invisibility cloak with which they were both huddled under.

He wanted to say something to her, anything. But each time he worked up the courage, he quickly lost it again. He didn't know if there was anything to say, or if there was anything right to say. Harry certainly didn't want to say the wrong thing. He knew that saying the wrong thing to a girl could make a bad situation worse.

Harry sighed softly and stared aimlessly at his surrounds. A chilly wind whipped the fallen leaves from the path in front and scattered them across the ground. A group of Ravenclaw students stood at the edge of the lake. From what Harry could see it looked as if they were making miniature ice-sculptures with the water. Hogwarts castle looked gloomy in the overcast weather, and Harry was glad to be outside.

"There's something I need to tell you," Hermione interrupted Harry's thoughts.

Harry turned to look at her and raised his eyebrows in response.

"I think Malfoy is spying on me," she said. "Everywhere I go he seems to be there."

"Maybe he has a crush on you," Harry said with a teasing smile. Inside, he felt a slight twinge of jealousy course through his veins.

"Merlin! I hope not!" Hermione exclaimed in mock horror. "Imagine all the complications! A Malfoy in love with a Muggle-born!"

Harry's smile turned into a grim expression of duty. "If I see him near you, I'll turn him into a ferret or something."

"I can take care of myself," Hermione said huffily. "I am better at Charms than you are, you know." She smiled and added, "I could charm his cloak to bind him or something."

They walked a few more metres in silence, their shoes making squelching noises in the damp dirt and grass. Harry was thinking that Dumbledore should really do something about this path when he remembered something he had to tell Hermione.

"The other night Snape was hit with a spell," Harry said monotonously. "The teachers have no idea what spell it was. He's still unconscious."

"What!" Hermione exclaimed. "Who could do that?" she whispered.

"Dumbledore thinks it's me."

"What!" Hermione exclaimed again.

"I overheard McGonagall and Flitwick in the corridor on my way to meet you. They said that Dumbledore was watching me before he made his next move," Harry said. He studied the path beneath his feet intently, a sliver of guilt beginning to form in his mind. "You see, Hermione, I was the last one they know of who saw Snape conscious that night…and I did hit him with a spell…I don't know what spell it was, but he was still awake when I left him…he was shouting my name…"

"Oh, Harry! I just know it wasn't you that attacked Snape. I'm sure you just misinterpreted what they were saying. That's why eavesdropping isn't a good thing…" she tried to comfort him.

"Yeah, well whoever it was," he said defensively, "he deserved it, the stupid git… wait til Ron hears why he's not taking potions…"

Harry trailed off suddenly.

"Oh, Harry! We will work it out," Hermione said softly, "at least I hope we do."

Harry blinked quickly and readjusted his glasses.

"Speaking of stupid gits," Harry said angrily, "Ron had my map."

"Which map would that be?"

"The Marauders' Map."

He watched comprehension dawn on Hermione's pretty face, the anger beginning to fade from his body.

"That's why he's been acting all weird! That's why he thinks I'm lying! He was spying on us by using that map!" Hermione almost shouted. Harry was amused; it was like she had worked out an answer to a difficult question that a teacher had asked.

"We should all be able to make amends then," Hermione beamed, "all we have to do is tie him up so that he will listen to us!"

When they were almost at the gates that were the exit from the school grounds, Harry stopped dead in his tracks. "This is ridiculous, Hermione!" He said in exasperation. "If we don't do this properly, then there's no point wearing my invisibility cloak. We may as well just walk hand in hand and pash in front of Zonko's if we're not going to conceal ourselves properly."

Hermione blushed and nodded her head. She then crept closer to Harry and tentatively wrapped her arm around his lean waist. Harry almost stopped breathing when he felt butterflies at her touch. He lent in closer to her as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

"There we go," Harry whispered in her ear, "as close as can be. No one will be able to see my feet now." He grinned at her.

"Yeah," Hermione smiled back at him "you don't want people seeing those old sneakers of yours!"

They stared into each other's eyes for a few moments, before Harry broke the connection. He was beginning to feel like he wanted to kiss her again, and now that he knew that she didn't want that from him he didn't think staring deeply into her eyes was appropriate.

"I think I want to go and get a Butterbeer first," he said as he led Hermione through the gate towards the town.


	12. Mistletoe and Mysteries

_A/N: I would like to dedicate this 4000 word Chapter to my Beta Missybewitched, whose birthday it is on July the 1st. Happy Birthday to you! May all your wishes come true! I wrote this chapter for you :) So I hope you enjoy it, I really do :) Thanks for beta-ing my story and your enthusiasm and encouragement!_

_And to all: please, feel free to read and review. I have no idea if you guys like this or not :)_

**Chapter 12 – Mistletoe and Mysteries**

Harry sat in a familiar corner in the Three Broomsticks, hidden behind the Christmas tree. Hermione, who was now of age and much better at the human transfiguration spells that they had been learning in class, _and_ who was also better at defending herself in verbal confrontations, had left the safety of the invisibility cloak to purchase their Butterbeers.

He had laughed inwardly as he had watched Hermione transform herself magically. She now had short, straight, dark brown hair and brilliant blue eyes. The small telltale signs that she was Hermione were there of course, for those who knew her well and looked closely enough. But to strangers, she looked like a totally different person. He suspected that she knew he was laughing at her, because she took the glasses from his face with a grin and replaced them on her own before she left the cloak and strolled over to the bar.

Harry looked around at the other pub patrons while he waited for her to return. He gave up after a few seconds though, as his vision was too blurry to even make out faces. There were voices that he recognised floating around in conversations – but he couldn't discern their messages. So, instead, he retreated inwardly to his thoughts.

The last time he came here had been the cause of the fiasco with Cho. He had unfortunately abandoned his date in the wrong way, to fulfil a promise he had made to Hermione. His friend had lined up a meeting with Rita Skeeter, who had interviewed him here about Voldemort's resurrection. She had told his story to the world – and thus enabled some of the Wizarding world to prepare for the return of the war.

He'd seen Cho around school now; she'd smiled and waved at him. In DA meeting's, she chatted to him politely about Quidditch, and congratulated him on his teaching. He felt comfortable talking to her now, but he no longer felt his stomach do flip-flops when she smiled at him.

His thoughts were broken by the pleasant tinkling clunk of two Butterbeer bottles being placed on the wooden table in front of him. He saw a blurry hand slide under the cloak and felt cold metal being pressed into his hand. He quickly put his glasses back on so that he could marvel at Hermione's brilliant transfiguration skills again.

"It's okay," she said softly, "you can take the cloak off now."

"Are you sure?" he whispered back. He thought she might have forgotten that he had one of the Wizarding World's most recognisable faces.

"I charmed the tree," she explained. "If anyone looks this way they automatically see the tree only and won't worry about who is sitting near it."

Her reassuring words did not meet with the sudden appearance of Harry Potter, which she had expected.

"If it makes you feel any better, I can perform some human transfiguration on you too?" Hermione offered with the hint of a smile.

"Okay then," he said reluctantly. He trusted Hermione, and this would allow one of his dreams to come true—the dream of being able to live in the wizarding world anonymous and unknown, even if it was only for a few brief hours.

He removed his invisibility cloak and carefully folded it up. Hermione leaned over with a thoughtful expression on her face.

"_Oculus Reparo_." Harry noticed that his vision had gone blurry again. But he remembered this spell from their first year, and removed his glasses, placing them on the table.

"I'll take those," Hermione said as she grabbed the glasses, gave them a quick tap, and put them on. She smiled again when she saw Harry's expression. He looked a bit hesitant. She had, after all, changed his glasses from black to pink, and had changed the round frames to rectangular ones.

"Don't worry!" She laughed. "I'll change them back later."

He shrugged.

Hermione then performed some more complicated wand movements and incantations. Harry was sure that some of them had not been covered in class because he was certain he would have a faint memory of them.

"Up you get then," Hermione motioned for him to go over to the bar.

"What?" He was confused.

"Don't you want to go and see what you look like?"

Harry slowly arose from the table and walked over to the bar, where a long mirror hung along the back wall. As soon as he saw his reflection he spun around and angrily marched over to where Hermione was sitting.

"What did you do that for?" He almost yelled at her. When he had looked in the mirror, he had seen what looked like a relation of Draco Malfoy staring back at him. He now had ice-blue eyes, pale blond hair, and a permanent sneer on his face. He wasn't sure if Hermione had created the sneer, or if it was the instinctive facial expression that took over his face whenever he spotted a Malfoy.

Her face lit up with a mischievous smile.

"I was thinking about giving you violently red hair…" she stopped in her explanation as she registered the look that Harry gave her.

"Okay, okay, I'll fix it up," she raised the palms of her hands in mock surrender. "How about dirty blond with highlights instead?" She grinned.

"As long as my hair is not a silver blond like that snobby ferret's." He sat still as Hermione changed his appearance to something he found more acceptable.

When Harry was satisfied with his new look, the two opened their Butterbeers and began to drink. Harry savoured the taste as it met his lips and smoothly trickled down his throat.

"Mmmmm," he mumbled as he closed his eyes.

"Viktor will be here in just over a week," Hermione smiled as she looked at Harry. "I can't believe he's actually coming to visit. It has been so long since I've seen him…."

"Didn't you just see him over the summer vacation?" Harry inquired.

"Yes," she beamed. "But that was six months ago. You'll be able to take him out to play some Quidditch."

Hermione stopped talking. It didn't even look like Harry was listening to her.

"You know, over the summer, Viktor asked me to be his girlfriend," she looked over at Harry.

Harry sat listening to Hermione natter on about Krum, about how great he was, how sweet he was, how he wanted to be more than friends with her. He didn't want to talk about the famous seeker; for some reason it bothered him. And she kept talking and then glancing at him. Harry wondered if she was trying to gauge if he liked her or not, and wanted to get a telltale reaction from him. He had decided not to comply with her game, so was pretending not to listen.

As Harry was beginning to zone out, thinking about how delicious the Butterbeer was, he suddenly remembered something and interrupted Hermione.

"Why did you want to meet me in the kitchens again?" he blurted out. Butterbeer dribbled down his chin and he wiped it away with his sleeve.

Hermione looked at him as if he had lost his mind, or asked her to do something completely insane - like flying to the Ministry of Magic in the middle of the night on Thestrals that she couldn't see.

"You know," Harry prompted her. "That note you wrote me, you wanted to meet me in the kitchens for a reason."

"Oh!" Hermione gasped. "The House-Elves. More of them have decided they want to get paid and have holidays now."

"That's great," Harry smiled at her.

* * *

The door to the Three Broomsticks shut with a muffled bang as Harry and Hermione left the comfort and warmth of the pub to once again enter the fresh crispy air of the village. Their feet crunched in the few centimetres of fresh snow that had just begun to fall within the hour that they had been inside. 

They strolled along the one main street of Hogsmeade, which was presently busy with shoppers. Like the Muggles, Harry had learnt that the Wizarding folk also celebrated Christmas. It was the last weekend before school finished, and for many of the Hogwarts students, it was their last opportunity to buy gifts for their families and friends before they returned home for the holidays.

Harry's spirits were beginning to pick up as he felt the soft flakes of snow cover his dirty blond hair and melted on his face. It was almost Christmas, he was happy, and there was only one more week of school left, and no Snape. He grinned and linked arms with Hermione as they walked along the shops window-shopping.

They stopped in front of an ornate-looking store. Its façade was antique looking, and colourful baubles lit up the display in the window. Admiring the glittering window display, Harry turned to see what had captured Hermione's attention. Harry now realised that they were standing outside Tiffany Lionheart's, one of the Wizarding world's most talented jewellers. Harry didn't know much about them except for the things he learnt from Ron's occasional comments. He knew that, unlike Muggle jewellery, wizarding jewellery was adorned with special qualities – with no piece of jewellery identical to another. He also knew that it was generally incredibly expensive.

"If you want to make a girl love you, you don't need any of those tacky love potions. You just need a Tiffany Lionheart original….if only I had a few galleons." He remembered Ron had said at the Yule Ball as he watched Hermione on the dance floor with Krum.

Hermione was staring at a gilded bracelet in the shop window. It was made from rose and yellow gold intertwined, and in the centre it had a small diamond with a ruby on either side. She noticed that Harry was also staring at it.

"Isn't it beautiful?" she murmured as she studied the bracelet through the window.

They stood in silence for a few minutes before Hermione turned from the window and resumed walking along the road, her arm linked with Harry's. When they were outside Zonko's they noticed an irritated Rita Skeeter with a photographer in tow, snooping along the street. Harry didn't even need to ask them who their next victim would be, he knew it was Hermione and himself they were seeking. He grinned at Rita, who sent an annoyed scowl his way before she continued to plough through the snow.

They spent at least half an hour in Honeydukes, sampling and eventually buying some sweets. When they stepped outside again it was late afternoon, and the crowd that had been milling in the streets earlier had disappeared. Hermione wrapped her scarf more tightly around her neck before she turned to look up at Harry.

"I just need to dash quickly into Dervish and Banges," she said. "I'll probably be a little while because I have to go all the way back up the road."

Harry shrugged. "I'll meet you outside the Three Broomsticks in thirty minutes then, and you still have to turn me back normal," he smiled at her as she nodded and waved, and set off at a quick pace back up the street.

Together, they had visited every shop in Hogsmeade. Although Harry had enjoyed their time together without anybody discovering their real identity, he still wished for some time alone, away from Hermione. He couldn't buy Hermione a gift if she was standing right next to him – and he now knew exactly what he was going to get her. Of all the people he knew, she was the one who most deserved something like this because she had always been there for him. He was going to buy her the bracelet that she had admired so much in the window of Tiffany Lionheart's.

He walked across the road a little until he came to the shop; the bracelet was still there, at its place in the window display. Following along the display window, he reached the store entrance, and turned the handle of the door so that he could walk inside. The door didn't budge, so he pushed into it a little harder. It made no difference. He put his face up close to the window of the door and peered inside.

A middle-aged woman with purple locks sat behind a glass display cabinet inside. She was absorbed, in what Harry thought, looked like a copy of the latest edition of Witch Weekly. He rapped on the window lightly so that he wouldn't frighten her.

The woman looked up from the article she was reading when she heard the tapping on the glass window. She grimaced and pointed to the door, a little above Harry's head. Harry turned to look where she was pointing. When she noticed that Harry was reading the sign, she went back to reading her magazine.

Harry read the sign: "Absolutely, positively, no students allowed!"

Harry frowned. He needed to get that bracelet for Hermione – he didn't know of another present that was as perfect as the one that lay on display in the shop window.

He knocked on the door again. The woman inside just shook her head at the sound without even turning to look at him. He knocked quite a bit louder, and didn't stop knocking. He watched as her eyebrows became drawn and her lips pursed. She was finding it hard to concentrate on what she was trying to read.

Slamming the magazine down on the counter the woman stormed over angrily to the door where Harry stood, and undid the many magical locks that kept the shop safely barred from students entering it.

"What is it?" The lady snapped at him. "Can't you read? The sign says absolutely, positively, no students allowed! And you are a student, therefore you are not allowed in." She made to close the door but Harry stuck his hand out.

"Wait!" he shouted at her. "There's something that I want to buy."

"We don't sell cheap jewellery here, young man," the woman huffed, "if you are after something a little more in your price range, may I suggest Dervish and Banges. They have quite a good selection of everyday jewellery there. I'm sure that you will be able to find something that you like, and can _afford_."

"You don't understand," Harry said icily. His patience was beginning to wane for this rude woman. "I have enough money." And he produced his money pouch from his cloak that contained all his spending money for the year. He opened it, and a few Galleons fell out into his outstretched palm.

The woman looked shocked and stood back, allowing Harry to enter the shop.

"You're not a Malfoy," the woman stated.

"I know," Harry said frowning. "I wouldn't want to be one either."

After she had locked the door, the woman walked over to Harry and introduced herself.

"I am Gwendolyn Lionheart, Tiffany's elder sister," she struck out her hand and offered it to Harry to shake.

"Er, nice to meet you," Harry said, shaking her hand.

"And you are?" the woman inquired eagerly. It was not often that a student had enough money to be able to enter the store.

"Harry Potter," Harry said without thinking. He didn't have to introduce himself that often, so when someone asked for his name he was usually ill prepared. He wasn't used to it, and the last time he had lied it hadn't really worked out anyway.

The woman let out a shriek of laughter. "You? Harry Potter? You look nothing like him! For one thing, where's that famous scar of yours?"

"I transfigured it," he said and changed the subject. "Can I please see the bracelet in the window?" He pointed to the bracelet that Hermione had been admiring earlier that day.

The woman bustled over to the display, reached in, and took it out gently. She then handed the delicate jewellery to Harry. The metal was cool to touch at first, but once it touched the skin it became warm.

"I see that you have a keen eye, Mr…er, Potter," Gwendolyn said as she watched Harry closely. "The bracelet you hold has many special magical properties. The three stones give it strength when the two ends are clasped together, and it passes this strength on to the wearer. It protects against most controlling spells, such as the Imperius curse. I guess you could say it is like a low energy personal shield." She smiled at him.

"How much?" Harry asked, now beginning to think he should have been more discreet with his money. She might know roughly how much he has, leaving him with not even a Knut left.

"18 Galleons, 25 Sickles and 5 Knuts. A bargain for workmanship of this quality," Gwendolyn said with a sickly sweet smile. "But, you can have it for 15 Galleons, 22 Sickles and 3 Knuts if you sign my copy of Witch Weekly and let me know who you are buying this bracelet for."

Harry turned away from the Gwendolyn and counted the money in his pouch. He had just a little more that the reduced price the woman was asking for. He could only afford to buy Hermione this gift if he acted like the celebrity that Snape took him for. But he had little choice. It was probably almost time to meet Hermione, and he didn't have enough time to find her something else.

"Where's your copy of Witch Weekly?" Harry asked as he pulled his wand from his waistband.

* * *

He left the shop and a smiling Gwendolyn behind, with a considerably lighter money pouch. Making sure that Hermione was nowhere in sight, he tucked her gift deep in his pocket and hurried over to the other side of the road. It was late afternoon, but they still had a few hours left before they needed to be back within the school grounds. As he hurried along to the Three Broomsticks, Harry spotted Ron up ahead, his eyes turned to the ground. Harry thought that he looked really lonely. Because he was in such a good mood, he thought that he might say a quick 'hi' and try and take the first step in restoring their friendship. 

Approaching Ron quickly from behind, he reached out to tap him on the shoulder. But just before he could, he stopped in his tracks.

"Yeah, that's right. He still has nightmares all the time, and he's been sneaking off with Hermione," Ron said snidely to his hand that was presently up close to his face.

Harry frowned as he watched Ron walk further away. And then it dawned on him. Ron must be secretly speaking to Rita Skeeter. He felt betrayed – how could Ron stoop to such lows?

Harry stalked past the Three Broomsticks in a foul temper. He didn't even notice Hermione standing outside, nor did he hear her calling his name. He was blinded with anger and was heading in no particular direction. He felt a tug on his arm and swung around with his fist.

Hermione jumped back with shock, overbalancing and landing in the snow. Harry looked down at her and instantly calmed down, his anger turning to guilt.

"Hermione! I'm so sorry," he bent down and helped her up.

She brushed the snow off herself, slowly recovering from the shock of almost being hit by an angry Harry. "What's wrong Harry?"

"I can't believe him," Harry muttered, "he's betraying me to that Skeeter cow."

Hermione was leading him along a heavily wooded path. "Believe who, Harry?"

"Ron," he said coldly staring into the distance, his jaw firmly set.

* * *

They sat near the Shrieking Shack, on a rock close to the edge of the woods, watching the sunset. The snow was falling softly, and the calls of birds could be heard faintly. 

"I miss him a lot, you know," Harry said softly, staring hard at the gaping holes in the boarded up windows of the Shrieking Shack.

"I know," Hermione whispered.

"I just wish I could have seen what was happening, how I was being used as a pawn…"Harry trailed off.

"I wish I had listened to you, Hermione. He wouldn't have died then." Harry said with such a quiet voice that Hermione had to hold her breath to hear him.

"Harry, there was nothing you could do to stop it. If Voldemort wanted you in the Department of Mysteries, he was going to get you there somehow. If he wasn't manipulating you…he probably would have kidnapped someone for real…"Hermione tried to console him.

"It's okay, Hermione," he smiled faintly, a solitary tear sliding down his face that was flushed from the cold, "I'll always live with the guilt of what I did."

They sat for what seemed like an hour in silence. Hermione snuggled closer into Harry. The temperature was beginning to drop quickly.

"Look," Hermione broke the silence, pointing above their heads. She was pointing to mistletoe. He could have sworn that it wasn't there before, and he had a sneaking suspicion that the young woman sitting next to him had conjured it. Harry wondered why all girls needed mistletoe to be present in order to kiss him.

Hermione lent over, cheeks flushed, her hand reaching out to nestle behind Harry's neck. She brought Harry's face close to hers and kissed him softly. Harry revelled in her soft lips and sweet smell of strawberries. He began to feel his cheeks heating up and felt his heart racing in his chest.

A rustle of leaves broke the two apart suddenly. Harry immediately whipped out his wand, and Hermione jumped to her feet. A shrouded black shape hobbled into the clearing, turning its head to check the surrounding area.

"It's Professor Snape!" Hermione gasped.

"Shhhh!" Harry whispered as he pulled her back into the cover of the trees.

"Mel?" Snape called questioningly, looking towards where Harry and Hermione had been standing a second ago. He shook his head as if to rid the thought from his mind and continued hobbling towards the Shrieking Shack.

"What's he doing here? Who's Mel?" Harry whispered suspiciously.

They watched Snape hobble away, leaving large gashes in the pristine snow.

"He looks terrible, well, more than usual anyway," Harry whispered feverishly, "he should be in the hospital wing after what happened. How can he be out here, if he's been unconscious for the past couple of days?"

"Maybe Dumbledore found the spell to reverse the one he was attacked with?" Hermione whispered back, her eyes transfixed on her professor.

They watched Snape disappear around the side of the Shrieking Shack furthest from them. Harry moved from his crouched position and took a step forward. Hermione grabbed on to his elbow and pulled him back down.

"Harry, no, it's too dangerous!" she warned him.

"We need to follow him, he could be up to something," Harry prised Hermione's fingers one by one from his elbow and stood up.

"We should let Dumbledore know," Hermione said quickly, trying to change Harry's one-track mind. "And Harry, Dumbledore trusts him! He probably already knows what Professor Snape is doing out here!"

"No! It could be too late!" Harry said turning to leave their hiding spot. "And if we leave it any longer we're going to lose him altogether." He took a step.

"Well," he paused, "are you coming?"

"Well, I certainly can't let you run off by yourself now, can I?"

Hermione scrambled up and closely followed Harry, who had quickly pulled on the invisibility cloak. Hermione was careful to erase their tracks from the snow, they had enough close calls in the past to realise the importance of completing this task.

They quickly made their way down the slope and around the edge of the Shrieking Shack and came to a quick stop. In the distance Snape stood in conversation with another individual who was also wearing a dark, hooded cloak. The pair abruptly turned and hurried into the woods.

"Quick!" Harry whispered, and they raced into the woods as quickly and as quietly as they could.

"Shhhh," Harry whispered. They stopped running and stood listening. There was a faint rustle a few metres away.

"Follow me," Harry mouthed to Hermione, and they ran in the direction of the noise. They ran for at least ten minutes in silence before they were climbing through a bush, breaking through the cover of the forest, and stepping into a clearing.

Harry stood panting, his face scarlet. He gulped down the biting cold air, each breath searing his throat. His hair was plastered to his head from his sweat. He looked at Hermione who had one hand resting on the trunk of a tree; her eyes closed as she, too, tried to calm her breathing.

They abandoned the cover that the invisibility cloak offered when they found it became difficult to run though the woods so close to each other. They were making too much noise; Snape might hear them. Harry was also concerned that he would tear the delicate fabric of the cloak in the rough brambles while they thrashed through it.

"_Lumos_," Harry whispered. It was night time, inky darkness caved in all around them. The clouds above blocked the light of the moon and stars. His wand tip lit up and he pointed it in all directions. The clearing was empty.

"This way," Harry whispered as he walked quickly across the clearing to where a small stream gurgled.

They lost sight of Snape and his accomplice as quickly as they had found them. But Harry was determined not to give up; he wanted to catch Snape in the act once and for all.

"Harry," Hermione pleaded, her body revealing that she was shivering, "please, let's go back. It's past dinnertime, it's too dark to be out here and we lost them hours ago. We're not going to find Professor Snape out here. They probably apparated as soon as they entered the forest."

Though Harry could have continued looking all night, he agreed with Hermione. He also didn't want to keep her out in the dark and the cold any longer.

* * *

When they reached Hogwarts, eerily empty corridors greeted them. It was a few hours since dinner had passed, and Harry guessed that the students and staff of the school had returned to their dormitories for the night. He felt tired and cold, and couldn't believe how stupid he had been to risk their lives again. He should have listened to Hermione. 

They woke the Fat Lady from her sleep and crept into the Gryffindor common room. The last embers of the usually vibrant fire were dying in the hearth. Hermione quickly restored their original appearances before they tiptoed towards the staircase. Hermione reached out to Harry for a goodnight hug, when they heard a soft fizz and the common room lit up brightly.

Harry and Hermione spun around when they heard soft footsteps behind them.

Professor McGonagall stood in all her glory. She wore a cross expression and a large, fluffy tartan dressing gown that didn't do anything good for her figure.

Her nostrils flared in anger. "You have been missing from the school for hours! We had no idea where you were!"

"Professor, we…" Hermione was cut off.

"We thought something terrible had happened! We've been terribly worried," Professor McGonagall lowered her voice slightly and her voice shook, "members of you-know-what have been searching for you."

"Professor, we saw Snape in the forest, we were trying to follow him…" Harry tried to quickly explain.

"It's true Professor," Hermione said meekly.

A flicker of concern flashed across McGonagall's wrinkled face before it returned to the stern look it was accustomed to wearing when disciplining troublesome students.

She huffed. "You look like you have been frolicking about in the forest!"

Harry stared at the floor, his face beginning to prickle. He thought his Professor had a point though, Hermione's hair was full of leaves and he had wet and muddy patches all over his clothes.

"You both should know better," she sighed with disappointment, "I expect more from you, Miss Granger and Mr Potter, than any other students in the school. One hundred points from Gryffindor!"

She stared at one and then the other. "I am too tired, and am too disappointed and angry at you both now to reprimand you any further. Therefore I will see you after class on Tuesday. Now off to bed!"

Professor McGonagall watched them both as they climbed the stairs to their dormitories. Harry was just about to open the door to the boy's dormitories when Professor McGonagall called to him.

"And Potter!" came her shout from the floor below, "what is with your glasses?"

Harry walked into his dark dormitory and sunk into his mattress. His face was still prickling and he was a bit scared of what would happen tomorrow, or even on Tuesday. He decided he would get Hermione to fix his glasses for him tomorrow; hopefully he would be able to catch her. She might be avoiding him due to embarrassment. He lay down, conscious of the fact that Ron was glaring at him in the darkness, until eventually he fell asleep.


	13. The Plan

_A/N: Well it has been a long time since I've written, and a long time since I've had the time to write. Although I must admit that I don't really have the time to write now either. And I think my beta has less time than me – so I don't think my dear chapters will be checked and revised by another until December._

_Please be advised that this fic is rated T for a reason! Thanks!_

**Chapter 13 - The Plan**

Harry strode purposefully through the common room, the portrait hole door closing behind him, muffling the giggling of the students who were milling around before going to breakfast. He had made up his mind last night, he was going to get Ron to listen to him, whether Ron liked it or not.

He slid his wand from his waistband as he marched along the weak sunlit filled corridors to the Great Hall, and tapped its tip softly against the metal rim of his glasses. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the colour change back to its original black. He didn't want to walk into breakfast with pink, framed glasses. They may have looked good on Hermione, but pink just wasn't his colour.

Not only did he have his mind working on how to approach Ron, it was also whirring manically with remembering the details of Hermione's kiss, and the disappearance of an injured Snape into the forest. What was Snape up to this time?

"Mmm," Ginny remarked as Harry sat across from her at the Gryffindor table, "I like your glasses."

Harry froze mid seat, he felt a warm flush beginning to creep up his neck. Wasn't he able to perform a simple transfiguration spell?

"What?" He blurted out at her, as he moved the glasses further down his nose so he could inspect them. "What's wrong with them?"

Ginny rolled her eyes as she swallowed a mouthful of steaming porridge. "Nothing's wrong with them. You've changed the shape, an updated look, I like them," she smiled mischievously at him as she placed a spoonful of porridge into her mouth.

Harry felt the warm flush begin to creep further up his neck as he sat down, and his eyes lingered a little on Ginny's mouth before he managed to shake himself out of his usual Monday morning daze, and reach towards the centre of the table to grab a handful of toast.

The part of the table next to him shook as a large pile of books was dropped onto it unceremoniously. Harry turned his head to see a very-tired looking Hermione take the seat next to him. She mumbled something that sounded like 'good morning', before her bushy mane disappeared behind a large book.

"Hermione?" Harry questioned her.

She quickly whipped her head from the book. Harry's toast almost fell out of his mouth when he saw her face. It was sickly white, and she had dark circles under her eyes.

"I've got an Arithmancy test today, I totally forgot about it. I was up all night studying for it," she moaned, wide eyes on the verge of tears.

Harry wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulder, "you'll be fine Hermione, and I don't think you even need to study for tests. You already know everything."

Hermione took a shuddering breath, and dove back into the book she held in her hands. Harry's gaze drifted along the staff table as he munched on his toast anxiously. He didn't like seeing his friend so needlessly worried.

He noticed that Snape's chair was empty, and so was Professor Dumbledore's. Their empty chairs did nothing to comfort him. He just knew that something was up. Snape hadn't returned. He wondered if Professor Dumbledore had gone looking for Snape when he noticed he was missing from the Hospital wing.

He continued gazing along the hard ochre staff table until he met the stern grey eyes of Professor McGonagall. An unwavering stare greeted emerald eyes, of which produced the instant reaction of the removal of his arm from Hermione's shoulders, and a slight flush of his cheeks.

Continuing to munch on his toast, Harry scanned the Gryffindor table for Ron's lanky frame. That morning when he woke up, Ron's bed was empty and he couldn't see Ron anywhere in the hall. He swallowed his toast in frustration. The situation between the three of them had escalated out of control. He had been hoping to run into Ron before breakfast, to knock some sense into him before the day's lessons began.

Although after the kiss last night, he was confused about his feelings for Hermione. What was the point of talking to Ron, if as soon as they had all made up, he decided to take more of an interest in her? That would seal the deal if he wanted to destroy all chances of Ron ever speaking to him again. He thought the best thing to do was not to mention the kiss to Hermione, and he would just wait to see what she did next.

He gulped down some pumpkin juice. He decided that he would fix things with Ron, and hopefully nothing would happen afterwards to complicate their friendship again. Now all he had to do was figure out a way to get Ron to listen, the problem being his friend was being even more pig-headed than usual lately. Harry sighed.

Ginny raised her eyebrows amusedly at Harry, and scraped her bowl clean. The piercing sound brought Harry back to the present. Hermione was standing up, collecting her books from the table. Quickly standing up beside her, Harry picked up the remaining books.

Hermione smiled sweetly at him, tipping her head to the side.

"Thanks, but I can manage it," she said curtly, reaching out to claim her books from Harry's arms.

"I don't mind carrying some of your books Hermione," Harry resisted her outstretched hand, "and besides. Can't I help you out for once?"

He watched her think about it for a few seconds. "Okay," she flicked her hair over her shoulder, and looked up through her thick lashes at him, "but don't expect to do it all the time. I am a capable young woman you know."

"I know," Harry whispered as he followed her through the throng of jostling students towards the large door to the foyer.

"Have fun with Potter last night, did you Granger?" Malfoy's voice rang clear across the crowd. "I see you've got him carrying your filthy things for him, though I suppose it was easy for you; he's such a weakling."

Hermione looked over her shoulder to glare at Malfoy. Her thick yet shapely eyebrows had knitted together to form a solid, bushy line separating her forehead from her hazel eyes.

"I tell you Potter, I wouldn't touch something that dirty with a 10 foot long broomstick! Even if she was the only girl available in the Forbidden Forest!" The Slytherin's in the crowd laughed.

Harry stopped walking and spun around to face Malfoy. He felt the handle of his wand between the tips of his fingers. Maybe he could pull off a non-verbal spell, even when he hadn't been practicing.

Like she could read his mind, Hermione took him by the sleeve and began to lead him away. "It's not worth it," she muttered under her breath.

Hermione's actions just made Malfoy laugh harder.

The crowd began moving through the door more hurriedly as it was almost time for their morning lessons to begin. Hermione was pushed roughly from behind, and landed hard on her knees her books spreading in all directions over the floor as her hands stretched out to break her fall.

Harry saw a blur of red hair dash out of sight as he bent down to help Hermione up, the last of the crowd of students were hurrying to class, the laughs of the Slytherin's vanishing with them.

Hermione brushed some dirt from her robes and studied her knees, a pained expression crossing her face as she touched them gently. There was a nasty gash in her stocking and a slight graze of blood was showing through. While Harry was collecting her books from the entrance hall floor, he watched as she silently mended herself.

She righted herself and looked him in the eye. "I think I'd had better carry them."

He nodded and handed her the pile of heavy books. They hurried in silence towards the dungeons for their Potions class. Their footsteps made echoing noises along the empty stone corridors.

They stood outside the classroom door for a few seconds to catch their breath and compose themselves. Opening the door to their classroom, they quietly crept in.

"Twenty points from Gryffindor," sneered their replacement Potions professor – Professor Dedalus Slinkvaul.

"Sorry we're late Professor," Hermione said as they found their seats and began unpacking their bags.

"So you should be," he smiled evilly at them. The class who had been moments ago working quietly concocting the difficult and dangerous Ravenswhorl potion, were now watching and listening intently. They were continuing their work on the potion, and they were up to the final important stage in its brewing.

"I will of course be letting your head of house know of your lateness, she is of course concerned about the amount of time you are spending together," he turned his back on them and walked over to where a group of Ravenclaws were working.

Harry was aware of the skin on the back of Ron's neck turning puce as he wildly chopped at his ingredients. "We're just friends," Harry snapped angrily. What had happened between himself and Hermione was private- between them. He didn't need people, especially teachers, coming to false conclusions about what they were up to.

"That will be detention at lunch for you Potter," he said quietly, not turning around. "You will address _all_ your teachers with respect, not just the ones you like. You are not above _anyone_. You will call me Professor Slinkvaul or Sir."

"Yes Sir," Harry said quietly fuming as he continued with his Potion.

Hermione looked a little misty-eyed, but that could have been due to no sleep and copious amounts of deep purple vapour pouring from her perfectly completed potion.

* * *

Harry returned to the Potions classroom at lunchtime to complete his detention. He hadn't seen Hermione since first class that day, and was wondering how she had coped with her Arithmancy test.

Professor Slinkvaul gestured for Harry to sit at one of the desks. Two large cauldrons sat on the desk, one empty and one full of dead frogs. Harry's nose wrinkled at the disgusting smell of damp moss and rotting garbage.

"You are to remove the skin from the Frogs and place it in the empty cauldron. The remaining parts of the frogs you will place into this," he handed Harry a large glass vial.

Harry set to work immediately, and to distract himself from his gruesome task, he thought about how he was going to get Ron to listen to him long enough to believe his story.

It took almost three-quarters of the hour-long lunch break, but he had figured it out. That night after dinner, he would ambush Ron in a dark corridor, take him to an empty classroom, tie him up and make him listen. He would give his story to Ron, let him know there was nothing going on between him and Hermione, and hopefully he would get some answers from Ron too.


End file.
